Playmate
by FracturedMirror
Summary: (Crowley x Kevin) When Crowley retakes the throne of hell, he brings back his favorite little prophet to keep him amused. [Warnings: Mostly Crowley pushing Kevin's buttons, language, severe flirtations, Rated M for possible mature themes later on. Set somewhere in the future, so it might stray further from the canon storyline as time goes on. I suck at summaries! I'm sorry!]
1. Chapter 1: Adjustments

The world was spinning. His head ached, but compared the normal piercing pain it was a dull throb. He remembered the veil. He remembered going with his mother. He tried hard to ignore the pain in his heart. Of course. The Winchesters must have done it. They must've managed to re-open the gates of Heaven. He must've moved on.

He knew of Heaven. What was his Heaven like? He opened his eyes, waiting for them to refocus. It took a minute for the blurriness to clear up. This was his Heaven?

He was lying on a rich red soft sofa, accented with a burgundy mahogany frame. It was soft, maybe softer than any couch he had ever laid down on, but it was hardly Heaven. Frankly it looked like he was sitting in an office.

The sofa was sitting against the east wall, a large bookcase towering beside it. A grand, intricately carved desk was the center of the room. It was clearly made from the same wood as the sofa. There was a set of armchair facing the desk, again, the same woodwork as the sofa.

His breath hitched in his throat. That wasn't his imagination. He could've sworn there was someone sitting at the chair at the desk. The back of the chair was turned towards him. An angel? He heard the shuffling of paper. There was someone there.

"Excuse me…?" he was ashamed to say that there was a squeak in his voice. Why did his throat feel so dry?

The chair turned to face him slowly, revealing a familiar face. An expensive suit, a designer tie, and that unforgettable smirk. Well-reigned control and an unmatched confidence.

Kevin's face twisted with rage as he spat, "Crowley!"

"None other, darling. Nice to see that you've woken up. I'll admit you made a rather delicious sleeping beauty," he calmly set the papers he had been looking through on his desk.

"I'm…? I'm in hell? How is that possible?" his voice darkened, "What did you do?"

"Oh, calm down. I pulled some strings. King of Hell after all. I got you your life back. Isn't that sweet of me?"

"I don't care what you want me to do. I won't. I'd rather be dead than become your underling," he voice was still trembling with anger. He knew that the last thing you wanted to do in front of Crowley was to let him push your buttons. He was beyond caring.

"Don't get your panties in a twist. I didn't bring you back for that. Although that does sounds like fun," he swayed a bit in his chair, clearly contemplating.

"Then why did you bring me back?" he gasped, "Let me guess. You're going to use me as a bargaining chip against Sam and Dean. "

"Oh! Clever. Still not right though. Come on, Kevin. You can do better than that," the chuckle in the demon king's voice made his blood boil.

"You want me to translate another tablet? We've been through this. It's not going to happen. I'll find a way away from you," he held his tone in check, despite the fact that he was terrified. He remembered the ways Crowley had to make you comply.

He didn't like the way that Crowley was enjoying this guessing game. He shook his head, trying to hide a grin that was breaking out across his face. "Fine! I'm not getting it. Stop playing games and tell me why you brought me here!" deep down he knew that yelling at the demon would accomplish nothing, but his fuse was shot.

"'Stop playing games'?" He repeated softly, "Stop playing games? Don't you understand Kevin? That's exactly why I brought you here. I loved the little games we played with each other."

He didn't even try to stop his face from contorting with confusion. He couldn't be serious. He always had a motive. A brilliant motive. This was just Crowley screwing with his mind, yet again.

His voice went soft and his tone was merely exasperated at this point, "What is it, really?"

Crowley gave a small chuckle, "I'm quite serious. The games of cat and mouse we used to play. I loved matching wits with you. You've got a mind made for chess. I brought you here to be my playmate."

Kevin swallowed hard and gave a small shudder. He didn't like the way that the demon had phrased that, "'Playmate'?"

"Oh? That's the part you picked up on? I lavished you in compliments, but I see straight where your mind went. That's fine by me. I'd like for you to dwell there," it was hard to miss the flirtatious tone to his voice.

Kevin was sitting up straight and he was sure all the color had drained from his face. His eyes bolted between the door and the King of Hell sitting comfortably at his desk. He knew it was a bad idea, but panicking wasn't good for anyone's thought process. He pulled himself up from the comfortable couch and made a dash for the door. He grasped the golden handle firmly in his hand, but his voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"By all means. You must remember. The genuine article lies beyond that door. If you want to take a stroll around, I won't object. Do you think you can handle yourself out there? Do you think you're ready to take a glance at hell in its full glory?" Crowley smirked when he noticed that Kevin removed his hand. He still stood there, staring at the door. But they both knew. They both knew that he wasn't going anywhere. They both knew that Crowley had won.

A/N: This is officially my 'Go Home You're Drunk' fanfic. And I'm sorry. But I'm also not sorry. I don't know how I feel about this. If you live reviews I will love you forever. Kevin is a bit short fused at this point, but he reverts to his cute snarky self after he calms down.


	2. Chapter 2: Silent Treatment

He tapped his fingers against the wood. Was he trying to annoy Crowley? Yes. Did he think it would work? No. Why was he still trying it then, one would wonder… Mostly boredom. He had calmed down. Now he decided to focus on one spot of the room and stare. Ignoring Crowley was the worst thing he could do to the demon right now.

"You're cute when you pout, sweetheart," his voice was deep and gruff. It sent a feeling through Kevin's spine. It was an odd feeling, but he knew to expect it by now.

He bit his tongue, metaphorically of course. He knew better than to give in that easily. Crowley wasn't even upset yet. Perhaps a little intrigued.

"Oh. I see. You're giving me the old silent treatment, are you?" he sounded a little amused, and barely tried to hide the mirth glittering in his eyes.

He barely twitched his lip, and then began to pick invisible lint from his clothes. He had noticed that those clothes he was wearing weren't anything he owned. Sure he owned black dress pants, but he had never known that his clothes were so low quality until he was wearing the no doubt high-end pair he was now. The black vest that rested on top of the red dress shirt definitely was a part of the same set as the pants. He rolled up the sleeves on the red dress shirt and had discarded the gold tie that had been carefully picked out when someone had dressed him like a doll.

"I thought you were more creative than this," Crowley gave a little smirk, put down whatever he had been interested in previously. He gave a little push from his chair and raised himself up to cross the span of the office.

He strolled up to the young man, his warm hand finding residence on his cheek. It took most of his restraint not to at least flinch away from the touch. He knew what Crowley was capable of. He knew all too well.

The smirk disappeared from the King's face, and he gave a small sigh, "You're supposed to be mature? Such childish tactics."

Wait… This was actually started to bother him, wasn't it? The King of Hell was actually getting upset about something as silly as the silent treatment. Of course. He was the type of person that always needed to be the center of attention. Denying him attention was something that would get on his nerves. This might just be a game worth playing.

At least that was his first thought. Crowley took a seat next to Kevin on the couch, sitting a little too close. He could feel his heartbeat quicken, and he tried to quell the unease building in his slight frame. He wanted to move. He didn't want to be anywhere near this man. If he moved then he lost this game. He wouldn't lose to Crowley.

His breath hitched in his throat. Only for a second. Crowley leaned forward suddenly and reached his hand forward. His fingers danced lightly on the back of his neck. Kevin's skin tingled. But he steeled himself, stubbornly staring at a decorate vase.

His mind raced when the demon king leaned forward. What was he going to do this time? He couldn't keep his eyes from darting back to the man without his permission.

He twitched. He couldn't help it. He clenched his jaw and he felt a spasm in his throat. He tried to control his breathing. Crowley planted a kiss on his Adam's apple, but the slight scruff of facial hair on his neck tickled. It wasn't that he felt anything for the demon, it was just an odd sensation. Frankly something that had never even occurred to him.

His time to think was quickly running out. Did he want to admit defeat and pull away? Then he could put some much wanted distance between the two of them. His pride screamed at the prospect. Then again, what would remain of his pride if he stayed?

He gasped when he felt teeth graze the sensitive area. He lost control of himself. He pushed and kicked as he tried to detach the elder. This was not what he had in mind! He hadn't really put much thought into how this game would end, but certainly not like this!

A humiliating whimper escaped his throat when he realized that he couldn't just pull away. Crowley had quite a grip on his shoulders, his mouth attached to his sensitive throat. He could feel teeth grazing against his skin, nowhere near breaking it. This was coupled with a strong suction that threatened to release more embarrassing noises.

He whimpered, clawing at the demon. He wasn't even sure what part he was touching and he didn't care. He just needed to get away. He wasn't ready for this. He would never be ready for this.

Crowley pulled back, his eyes narrowed the same way they did when he was calculating his plans. He watched as Kevin's chest heaved up and down, his eyes wide as he tried to catch his breath.

The world seemed to snap back into focus at a breakneck speed. Kevin scrambled out from underneath Crowley, unaware of his flushed skin, and his disheveled appearance. This was just the type of thing that made him the perfect playmate.

Kevin clutched the small section of skin that the Demon King had been so passionately attacking moments before. He could still feel the heat and slight moisture that tried to cling to him. He gave a small shudder.

A smug smirk crawled back on Crowley's face. He stood back up and straightened his tie, "I'm not quite sure if you've broken the rules of the whole 'Silent Treatment' game, but I know you've lost when it comes to ignoring me."

He walked forward and gave Kevin a strong pat on the back, "Don't worry, Kev," he lowered his voice, the tone dripping with seduction, "Sometimes there's no shame in losing."

A/N: I am getting better at writing Kevin? I'm trying my best to keep both of them in character. It's been quite a while since I've written a real story. I'll continue trying my hardest!


	3. Chapter 3: Our Song

Playmate Chapter 3: Our Song

No way. No freaking way. This just couldn't be happening. Sure. Crowley had flirted with him. But Crowley flirted with everyone. Everyone! That wasn't even an exaggeration. He never put any real stock into the thought that the King of Hell would ever actually try anything.

It wasn't really a secret that he was inexperienced. It didn't really take a genius to figure that out. Before he became the prophet, every minute of every day was planned out. No. Every second of every day was planned out. Even if he had a girlfriend, her life was the same way. Physical contact wasn't really something they got much time to have.

Of course he had kissed her. He had heated make-out sessions... Shamefully that was about as far as he has been. Then he started living life as a hermit with a perpetual headache. Both literally and metaphorically. (The obvious metaphor implications being the Winchesters.)

He knew that Crowley was just eating this up. How could he find his weakness so quick? Was he really that easy to read? Or was it that Crowley's act of flirting with anything that moved…. Wasn't actually an act at all. He snorted at the thought. Of course. It really had very little to do with him and all to do with Crowley's…. Interests?

He pulled himself off the ground and sat down on one of the room's armchairs. He wasn't so quick to sit back down on the couch. Even if Crowley was no longer seated there. Though sitting in the armchairs did mean that he would have to sit closer to the demon. It seemed that either way he was destined to lose.

A little smirk formed on Kevin's lips as a thought crossed his mind. He wasn't sure what the song was, but he began humming one of the many tunes Crowley had during his stay in the Winchester's basement.

It was surprising. It didn't seem to upset the Demon King in the least. He actually looked more amused than anything else. Why did his actions also have the opposite intended effect on him? Did he do it just to screw with him? It was a serious possible with that man...

"Mmmm. You're playing our song are you? That's sweet. Care to dance, darling?" he had a rather pleasant look on his face as he leaned forward on his folded hands.

Kevin scoffed, "Not a chance. You shouldn't even joke about that." Kevin folded his arms and made a note to drop his shoes on Crowley's desk making a loud unpleasant 'thunk'.

Crowley made a mock-shocked expression as he looked down at Kevin's feet, "Oh my. Such a rebel. Whatever have I gotten myself into?"

"Oh, yeah. Way more than you can handle," Kevin derided in a deadpan tone, hopefully knocking Crowley right off that ridiculous track.

The demon gave a low chuckle, sitting back in his chair, "Hmm… This could be a rather fun game in itself, don't you think?"

Kevin's feet fell off the table, slamming hard against the floor. It took him a minute to realize that it had indeed been involuntary movement on his own part and had nothing to do with Crowley's numerous powers. He wasn't really ready to engage in any more of Crowley's games at this point. Nor would he ever be, he told himself.

"Oh, come on Kev. I admit you're awfully cute when you're jumpy," he gave a little sigh that was supposed to indicate frustration, but Kevin was sure than it was all an act, "But I thought we were past that."

Kevin clicked his tongue, "When will you stop talking to me like we're friends? 'Past that'? We don't have any kind of relationship. You're only doing this to get on my nerves. I'm sure that you aren't seriously that deluded. Or just plain dumb."

Kevin wondered if saying what he did was a mistake. Crowley rose up from his desk. His shoes made an interesting click against the floor and he made a slow stroll to where Kevin had seated himself.

Kevin held himself back from flinching when Crowley rested a hand on his shoulder, leaning forward to whisper something into the Prophet's ear, "What our relationship is, what it entails. Maybe that's up for debate. But Kevin," he paused before uttering another pet name, "Love. You can't debate that there is a relationship between us."

He felt chills run down his spine. He wanted to swat the man away, but he knew. He knew deep down. Crowley was right. There was something between them. What was between them? He didn't know. He knew that there was hate. He had to admit that there was some sort of twisted fun he got from these games. What was between them? He didn't even want to think about it. It scared him to think about it.

He remained quiet, hoping that this wasn't taken that he had admitted defeat. Even though he knew it did. Why? Why did he keep playing games with Crowley when he knew that he would always lose? Because Crowley didn't give him a choice. He was stuck playing games with him, constantly struggled for the upper hand.

When he finally got the upper hand, how would he know that Crowley hadn't just given it to him? Being around the demon warped his sense of reality. It made him question everything. It made him paranoid. He hated it. But he couldn't escape it.

He felt himself flinch when Crowley grabbed his hand and pulled him from the armchair, coaxing him into a standing position. He made a strangled little growl as he was manipulated into a certain position. He gave a rather loud huff as he was forced into ballroom dancing as Crowley himself began to sing the tune they were to dance to.

"Okay," Kevin grumbled bitterly, "I'm starting to see why this is called hell."

A/N: Here we go. Another chapter. I hope you enjoy it. I know it's not a popular pairing, but that's part of why I feel like I should do my best with it. I don't really know how long I intend to make this story, so probably as long as I have inspiration.


	4. Chapter 4: Kitten

"You do realize that I have to sleep at some point. I don't want to sleep on your couch either," there was no way he could get a good night's sleep on the couch in Crowley's office when the aforementioned demon was working. Or not working. Especially in the event that he wasn't working.

"Of course I know that, darling. Is this your cute way of telling me that you're tired?" he didn't have to look at Crowley to hear the smirk on his face. His low voice grumbling the next comment was more than enough to know, "Or are you trying to get me into bed?"

Kevin didn't even try to stifle his snort, "Like I'd ever want that. You should stop projecting your sick fantasies on me," the teen crossed his arms.

The comment didn't seem to upset Crowley. Kevin had actually hoped that it would. He would do almost anything to wipe that smirk off the Demon King's face. Though it appeared to be stuck there. Likely for centuries. Or however old the damn demon was.

"You make a lovely, if a bit temperamental pet. Normally I'm a dog person, but you seem a little more like a cat. They're much more willful, and not quite as loyal," he stood up during his little dialog and moved to stroke the prophet's face, "They're so much smarter. And such graceful little creatures."

Kevin tried to shrug off Crowley's hand, but it didn't take. He then proceeded to swat at the offending appendage before responding, "You're giving off a really creepy vibe right now. Even more so than usual, I mean."

"That so?" he refused to be deterred, his hand quickly moving back to make more skin contact with the young man. Did it seem…? No. It almost seemed like Crowley was zoned out. That just couldn't be. Crowley didn't do things like that.

Kevin swayed around the hand standing up. He paced around the room. If Crowley wanted to compare him to a cat, so be it. He was a cat.

He took a deep breath and stalked over to Crowley's desk. He could feel the demon's eyes following him. He felt his heart rate pick up. Maybe he was playing with fire. It was about time that he got a little revenge. He sat himself down on the surface of the desk. Did Crowley just bite his lip? He pulled himself firmly onto the rich, dark wood. His fingers traced over the odds and ends on the demon's desk. Ancient artifacts. Mixing bowls stained with contents from past spells. His fingers landed on a small figurine. It looked old. And expensive. His eyes wondered to make contact with the demons. Then he dropped the object to the floor, bracing himself for the shattering sound it made against the floor.

The pleasure drained from Crowley's face as he stared at the figure in pieces on his floor. His eyes darted back up to Kevin, "What the hell was that about?!" it was the first time he had heard the demon raise his voice since he 'arrived'.

He couldn't help but take a little satisfaction in the fact that he got a rise from the demon king, "What? Haven't you ever owned a cat? Don't you know that they like knocking things over, just to watch them fall? I guess despite your speculation, you've never actually owned a cat. My Mom had one when we were growing up. I could show you all their little habits."

Did his lips twitch? Was it from anger or amusement? "Really? That sounds interesting. Does that mean I should buy you a pretty little collar?" he paused for a second, but not actually long enough for Kevin to get a word in edge wise, "That might not be a bad idea. In case you got out, everyone would know who to return you to," his voice darkened, "Who you belong to."

Kevin gritted his teeth. The Demon King was obviously just trying to get under his skin. He couldn't let that happen. He had to calm himself down, "You know, I have a distinct advantage over housecats. I have thumbs. I could just take the collar off."

"Oh? Are you challenging me now? Do you really think it'd be that difficult for me to find a collar with some type of lock? You're losing your edge, Kev. You should've just kept that little tidbit to yourself," he seemed to have pieced himself back together. If he had ever actually lost himself, which was something to doubt.

"Hmmmm," Kevin did his best to elegantly leapt off the desk, "I suppose I should keep that in mind. Did I just lose a piece, then?"

Crowley's eyebrows knit as he tried to think of the meaning to Kevin's words. He gave a little smirk, "Don't worry. Just a pawn. It's very early in the game, darling. Still plenty of moves left to make."

The words almost sounded like a promise. The young prophet scolded himself. It almost seemed inviting. The thought of playing chess with Crowley. It had been a long time since he had actually had any kind of a break. Chess was one of the games that his mother approved of. One of the games he was allowed to play. He always enjoyed it.

Kevin stalked back over to the couch. Crowley had taken to leaning against it as he watched Kevin. The Prophet laid down on the couch, stretching out to occupy as much space on the couch as possible. Crowley watched him curiously. Kevin felt a little disappointed that the demon seemed to be enjoying this little game. That wasn't what he meant to do.

He lifted his leg and kicked at Crowley's stomach leaned over the couch. It seemed to have little to no effect on the demon. Kevin wasn't sure if it was because of Crowley's demon capabilities, or if it was because he had a distinct lack of strength. At least compared to the average hunter...

"Really now? What are you pouting about now," Crowley attempted to seize the foot that seemed to be flailing around aimlessly now, rather than any actual attempt to kick the demon. After a few close calls he was able to successfully detain the appendage.

Kevin gave a small huff, "Will you let go of my foot? Don't you have anything better to do right now?"

Crowley 'tsked' at the comment, "Oh, love. You don't think you're important to me? That's so sweet. I think I'm going to try and make you purr."

Kevin sat up straight, abruptly. He frantically attempted to retrieve his foot from the demon pulling it back towards his body roughly, as he got increasingly nervous, "Uh… No. Not happening. No thank you. Why don't you go clean up whatever that thing used to be."

Crowley shook his head, "Oh, Kevin. Darling. That can wait. It isn't going anywhere," he leaned forward despite the struggling, "And don't you worry that pretty little head of yours. I'm not mad anymore."

Kevin gave a small huff, "You think I'd be worried that you were mad at me? Go ahead. Be mad," he swallowed hard, his eyes still stuck on where the demon was grabbing his foot. He still had it in a vice-like grip.

"Oh?" he gave a dark chuckle, "That's interesting. Do you want me to be mad? Is that the way you like it?"

He didn't know how, but he had started choking on air, "N-N-no!" he wished that had come out a little bit stronger.

"That didn't really have any conviction behind it, did it?" he started rubbing tiny circles on his ankle using his thumb.

"Conviction? I was just shocked," he rubbed his head, "Ugh. I don't know why I'm even explaining myself to you."

"You're just being defensive," the demon leaned forward his hands sliding down his leg to much more alarming areas, to whisper, "It's a normal reaction. When the predator gets to close," he paused to firmly grasp Kevin's thigh, "The prey will try to defend itself in anyway it can."

"Predator?" Kevin tried to keep his breathing regular, "So, what? Are you going to eat me or something?"

The Demon King smirked and gave a little wiggle to his eyebrows, "Well. Isn't that a delicious thought?"

Kevin swallowed audibly. He could feel the blood rush to his cheeks when he realized just how compromising of a situation this had become. This was a different type of warfare than he was used to, and he found that he was missing some of the key rules. He felt the demon dig his nails into the younger's thigh. It was rough enough to serve as a proper reminder of where his hand rested, but not enough that it'd cause a significant amount of pain.

"L-let go of me," the small statement started with a shaky start, but it had almost gotten firm by the end. Kevin took a deep calming breath as he stared down the King of Hell.

The demon started kneading the flesh in a relaxing manner, although it seemed to have the opposite effect on the Prophet. He could guess what the look in his eyes meant. It wasn't something that he was ready to deal with. For the longest time he had always assumed that Crowley was all talk. It seemed that he was determined to prove Kevin wrong on all counts.

Crowley had all his efforts concentrated on his right leg. This gave him the opportunity to bring his left knee into the demon's chest, causing enough shock to allow him to wiggle free. It took a chunk out of his pride when he inelegantly landed on the floor with a loud 'thud'.

He quickly scampered behind the King's desk, carefully avoiding the broken pieces of the statue. He picked up a few sizeable pieces, careful not to cut himself. He pocketed one, and tossed the other sharp side up on the demon's chair. It was actually kind of a shame. Whoever had made this spent a great deal of time carving it out of the marble, but the sleek limbs and neck of the figure didn't have a chance of withstanding the impact.

He took a good amount of satisfaction in the fact that he could hear Crowley trying to stabilize his breathing with a few coughs. Good. He deserved it. Actually, he deserved way worse than that, but he'd settle for realistic objectives.

He looked from behind the desk, not even trying to fight back a smile. For once the King of Hell didn't look completely in control. He looked… A little disheveled. He proceeded to try and straighten his suit, inspecting it for signs of blemishes.

Kevin gathered himself and stood up, suddenly ashamed that he was on the ground. He made sure that Crowley could see the pleased look on his face. He crossed his arms and put the best defiant look on his face.

Crowley gripped his tie, making sure that it was neat then directed his gaze to the teen, "Kevin, Kevin Kevin," his voice had a scolding tone, "What am I going to do with you?"

"Nothing. That's the point I'm trying to make," Kevin watched as Crowley walked back over to his desk. He kept his gaze steady, he fought the need to put as much distance between them as possible in the rather spacious office.

He did allow himself to take a couple steps back when the demon got to his desk. Crowley moved to sit down and make a little 'tsk' sound.

He reached his hand underneath himself and tossed the fragment of the fractured figure on his desk, "Nice try, darling," he paused and gave a smile to his companion, "Cute though. Real cute."

A/N: This chapter is a little longer than normal. Crowley's doing his best to make poor Kevin extremely uncomfortable. He's pretty damn good at it.

Oh, Wow. There hadn't been much interest in this fanfic, so I lost a bit of momentum. But when I logged back on after a long while, man, I just sat down and started writing then and there. Sorry for making you wait so long!


	5. Chapter 5: Curiousity

Playmate Chapter 5:

He woke up. It was odd. There were no blaring alarms, no Winchesters, nothing. Not even the sound of a pen pressed roughly against the desk, moving at an alarming pace. He warily opened his eyes, scanning the room.

He felt uneasy. That wasn't what he expected to feel. For the first time he was alone in this office. Crowley wasn't in here. That should be a relief. Instead he couldn't keep his mind from wondering where the demon had gotten to.

He was King of Hell. He must have a lot of matters to attend to. It was probably true that majority of his time was spent in his office, but… He sighed. Of course it was unsettling to be stuck in hell, alone. Last he heard things weren't going so well in the 'Kingdom'. The thought didn't exactly put him at ease.

He lifted himself up and walked to the door. He gripped the handle tightly. He was smart. Hell. He was in advanced placement. He could piece together a vague image of what lied beyond that door from the looks on the Winchesters' faces whenever Hell was brought up. And with how they had been trying to close the gates of Hell... He had gotten to know that look well.

What would he do on the other side of that door? It was crawling with demons. Demons whom he was sure hated him. Demons that might not be loyal enough to Crowley to return Kevin. Hell. He hadn't seen any demons since he arrived. There was no way to know if the demons outside knew anything of the Prophet. He might just be caught and tortured. He didn't have the faintest clue of how to escape, but he couldn't just sit there and do nothing.

He took a deep breath and twisted the knob. His ears were filled with blood curdling screams, his skin almost sizzled from the heat, his lungs burned, and he could smell the sickening scent of burnt flesh. He wanted to just turn back, but he couldn't stop the horrors that were unfolding.

He was back in the office. He suddenly realized he had been clinging to something. When had that happened? His eyes had been watering, probably from the smoke. There was smoke, wasn't there?

"Oh, love. I told you that you weren't ready for what's on the other side of that door. Can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?" he hated how much of a comfort that familiar voice was. He had to tell himself that it was Crowley's fault that he was down here. Crowley was the one that had trapped him here.

He tried to push the King of Hell off of him. He could tell when he lifted his hand to press it against the demon's shoulder how much he was shaking. Why had he tried that?

The better question was why did he feel comforted? Crowley wrapped his arms around the prophet as best as he could. Crowley leaned his head on top of Kevin's. The scent of hell was washed out by the pleasant smell of Crowley's aftershave.

As soon as he could no longer hear his heartbeat in his ears he realized his predicament. He was laying on the floor, wrapped up in the demon. He swallowed, and gave a little sigh.

"It's time to let go out of me now," Kevin mumbled, trying to hide his embarrassment. Just when he thought that this situation couldn't get any more awkward.

"But I'm enjoying myself," when he chuckled the prophet could feel it in his chest. It was an odd sensation. Kevin had to insist to himself that he wasn't enjoying it.

"You're the only one," Kevin snipped. He hated that there was still a tremble to his voice, but he wasn't going to falter like his voice, "Let. Go. Now." He put emphasis on each word hoping that he could somehow get it through Crowley's thick head.

Crowley understood perfectly. He just decided to keep a hold of the prophet. He knew how sadistic it was of him to love how deliciously cute he looked when he was terrified, but he couldn't really find it in him to care. It gave him the right kind of rush when those slender little fingers gripped him with all they had. Kevin was just so full of passion. It was downright intoxicating.

Those slender fingers that he had been admiring ghosted their way directly to his throat and paused. Crowley shouldn't have underestimated those slender fingers. He found himself gasping for air. The little bastard had pressed down on his jugular. Hard.

Kevin took this opportunity to scramble across the room, "See? I wasn't exactly playing around. I don't want you touching me?"

Crowley gave a few coughs before speaking, his voice holding more of a rasp to it than usual. He picked himself off the floor with relative ease. "And I normally love that you don't play nice," he gave another cough, "Now that was just rude."

"The last thing I need is a lesson in etiquette from a demon," Kevin leaned against the wall, finding some small measure of comfort in being further away from that door.

Crowley looked offended, "Oh, darling. I know some demons don't know the meaning of the word, but hell runs a little differently now. I assure you," he gave a small chuckle, "Manners aren't dead down here."

Kevin rolled his eyes, and said in a very flat tone, "Oh yeah. That's reassuring. I was really afraid that I'd be the only one down here that knew how to use a salad fork."

Ah… There he was. That was the Kevin that Crowley wanted, "Should I let you run the table manners course, then? I'm sure you'd make a stunning tutor."

He seemed speechless for a moment, giving Crowley an incredulous look, "There is no way, in any plane of existence that something like that is ever going to happen. I can't make this clear enough."

Crowley let a look of mock-disappointment roll over his feature, "Oh? Not even for me, darling?"

"You almost say that as if that's supposed to be some kind of incentive. You are the last person that I would want to do anything for," the prophet crossed his arms in front of himself, trying his best to maintain eye contact. He didn't want to lose any more of his pride today.

"You should be this harsh more often," Crowley strolled over to his desk, his hand resting on the corner. His voice decreased in volume, but the tone made it obvious that he was not joking, "It's kind of a turn on."

He broke eye contact and gave a bit of a cough himself. Why did he have to say such weird things? Was freaking him out really that much fun? He contemplated playing along to take the air out of Crowley's metaphorical tires, but that could go wrong way too easy. This made it awkwardly clear that Kevin was admitting that he thought that if given consent, Crowley would take this to a sexual level in a heartbeat. That was a brand new level of embarrassing, and Kevin didn't really care for it.

At least he knew Crowley had more things on his mind than that. If Crowley had brought Kevin back to be his toy _that_ way, he would have surely been more aggressive. Kevin couldn't help but feel unsettled.

He had always been so bad at relationships. Whenever he tried to get a girl's attention he just choked up, and then told himself he didn't really have the time anyway. Channing. Well, Channing was the one that had asked him out. He was so shocked that he agreed without thought. That being said, it wasn't as if he hadn't had feelings for her... He was just awful when being pursued.

People didn't really look at him like that. He was a geek. And he was fine with that. Only one girl looked at him like that, and he had been awkward enough at the beginning of that. Now here was Crowley.

Crowley. Demon. King Of Hell. Son of a witch. Hell's best salesman, with all the charisma to back up that title. He just... What was he supposed to do, stuck in a room with a man like that? He wasn't just stuck in a room, he was stuck in hell. And the King looked like he wanted to have a slice of Kevin for dinner. He groaned.

"You've gotten awfully quiet. You aren't giving me the silent treatment again, are you?" Crowley had a bit of a smirk, likely remembering how it ended the last time.

"No. I'm just trying to figure out what I could've possibly done to deserve this," he gave a small sigh and wandered over to the armchair, letting himself sink into it.

"Oh, sweetheart. There are so many wonderful things coming your way. "

He gave an exasperated groan that seemed to fill the room, "Can you please just stop?

"With you in front of me, I don't think that's possible."

A/N: Yay! Five chapters. A mini-milestone. Thanks to everyone for sticking around this long. You guys have been wonderful. Shadowwriter2199, a special shout out to you! Your messages give me the biggest smile.


	6. Chapter 6: Alone

He couldn't put in words how much he hated waking up on that couch. It was a fantastic couch, but honestly it was a little short for him. There was almost no room for him to stretch out. It was frustrating. He remembered the last time he brought it up to Crowley, and just how little that had accomplished. He rolled over, giving a bitter little sigh, ready to face the day and whatever Crowley had in store for him this time.

It was the second time in a row that he woke up to no Crowley. He hated the fact that he didn't want this to become a habit. He recalled what happened last time and closed his eyes, trying to fight back the memories. As insane as it seemed it was easier for him to forget he was sitting in hell when Crowley was around. Damn. He was getting really desperate for company, wasn't he?

He rubbed his sore shoulders and he picked himself off if the couch. He casually walked up to the desk and turned the chair around. He gave a small sigh as it was revealed to be empty. It's not that he craved interaction with Crowley in itself... It was. It was hard for him to be alone. He had gotten used to it. At least that what he told himself. It was what he had to tell himself.

It was the Winchester's fault. That what he decided. If they hadn't constantly left him alone at the bunker he wouldn't be like this. He always felt so miserable, so trapped. No matter how tired he was he always dragged himself out when he heard them coming. He knew all they'd want was more information from the tablets. That didn't matter. It was all the social interaction he knew he'd have for a while. So he'd suck it up and pony up all the info he had. It was also the only time he could ask for supplies. Another way the Winchesters had Crowley beat.

The Prophet laughed at himself as he sat down in the demon's chair. As if he could compare his time with the hunters to his resurrection in hell with Crowley. True, he never really felt like he had a choice in either matter. But he knew that was pretty much where the similarities stopped.

He picked up some of the papers neatly stacked on the desk. He squinted hard at the text, but he couldn't really make heads or tails of it. It wasn't exactly like he expected his 'word of god' abilities to come in handy down here anyway. He scanned over the next file on the desk.

Oh. This he understood perfectly. It was over-complicated legal jargon. This was obviously one of those contracts that Crowley was so famous for. It made sense that his desk was covered in paperwork. His desk space was very well maintained, but how could he stand looking through this all day long?

It wasn't like he was trying to snoop or anything. He was just extremely bored. There wasn't really anything to do for him. It wasn't exactly the most interesting reading material. It was just the only thing around. Ugh. It left a kind of dirty feeling when he realized what exactly this particular person had sold his soul for. He shouldn't know such personal things about a stranger. He shouldn't know this man sold his soul to take back something he said to his wife before she died.

He set the papers down. He'd really give anything to have his computer and an internet connection. Or his Xbox and Skyrim. Just about anything to do.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up when he felt a warm breath ghosting over his skin, "You've just made yourself at home, haven't you?"

He nearly had a heart attack. Was that a crazy crossroad's demon sense or something? Luckily he knew that he hadn't said anything out loud so any allegations could be denied. Maybe it really was because he could somehow tell that Kevin was going through his stuff.

"There's not really anything that I can do around here," Kevin leaned back in the chair and it gave a loud creak. He almost smirked when he saw the look on Crowley's face from the noise.

The King of Hell must not have been that bothered as he returned a quip rather quick, "Oh, darling. I can think of quite a few things that you can do."

"Nothing I'd actually be interested in doing," he tried to keep a blush from creeping onto his face. He decided that Crowley was much harder to deal with one on one.

"Don't knock it until you try it. I know quite a few fun tricks," he gave a deep grumbly chuckle, sending chills down Kevin's spine.

"Still not interested," he did his best to roll his eyes and act as if Crowley's words hadn't unnerved him.

"And after I've done something nice for you. I almost thought you'd be happy to see me," Crowley smiled as if he knew something.

Kevin refused to get his hopes up. This was probably just a trick. Maybe payback for some misdeed Kevin had done against Crowley. Because those couldn't just be counted on one hand. Although Kevin would have to admit that it was probably paranoia because if Crowley had wanted revenge it would probably not involve hitting on him.

He gave another sigh and said in an uninterested tone, "Is that so?" He considered getting up from Crowley's chair, but he found it more fulfilling to stay put.

Kevin gave a small gasp. Crowley had started kneading the back of the young prophet's neck and shoulders. It felt nice. He had unnatural aches and pains for his age for too long a time. Taking care of himself had been put on the back burner. He reached for Crowley's hand and shoved it off. Even if it felt good, Crowley was still a source of pain for him. He could never forget that.

He had killed Channing. He cut off his finger. He thought he had killed his mother, but he had still kidnapped her. He had to admit that he had softened a bit towards Crowley when he had noticed how he had been affected when he was 'taking hits of humanity'. And he wondered if it was an act, or if there was really something more to the demon then.

He didn't have to think about it anymore. He was back in charge of hell. It was his normal bastard self. He had kicked his humanity habit, Kevin was sure. He was the same demon that had caused him so much pain. He didn't understand why Crowley had brought him back, but he did understand that it wasn't from 'the goodness of his heart'. He almost scoffed at the notion.

"You're dwelling on the unpleasant again, aren't you?" Crowley's voice seemed the same on the surface, but Kevin couldn't help but think there was something off about it. Maybe he was overthinking things again...

It never ceased to amaze him how good Crowley was at reading people. Although he would never admit it to the demon himself, "Oh? Are you worried about me all of sudden?"

Crowley gave a little chuckle, "'All of a sudden'? Darling, I've been watching you long enough for you to drop the 'all of a sudden.'"

Kevin didn't want to respond to that. He knew that Crowley didn't care. He just can't help but think of the demon during his stay in the Winchesters' dungeon. He was so different then. He had to tell himself that wasn't the Crowley he was currently facing. He didn't know what form of Crowley that was in front of him right now.

"You have a certain look about you when you're upset. It awfully cute to push your buttons, but your feathers already seemed ruffled," he leaned down to whisper in Kevin's ear, "I like being the one to rile you up. It takes a little bit of the fun out of it when you do it yourself."

Kevin swatted at his ear, "Are you going to tell me what it is you did for me, or are you going to whisper in my ear all day?"

Crowley gave a playful little moan, "Don't tempt me. I could whisper sweet nothings into your ear all night long."

"Just don't," Kevin had to bite back a smile at the look he was sure that was on Crowley's face. Despite the fact that he hated being around Crowley, it was certainly better than being alone.

"Hold out your hand then," Crowley ordered. His tone wasn't commanding, it was the same as a person who had picked you up something as a surprise and was trying to relish in your excitement.

He thought about arguing about it, but he decided that it was best just to get this over with. Maybe it was some more clothes. Crowley had always been the type to be concerned with appearances.

Crowley dropped a small key in the out-reached hand. Kevin held it up to his face to examine it. He couldn't see anything special about the item no matter than angle he twisted and turned it. It was too large to fit in any of the desk's compartments.

"Might help if I could tell what I was looking at," he gave a sigh. He knew that was what the demon wanted. He was making Kevin make conversation. It was as good of a pastime as any he supposed.

"It's a key," he had an almost charming grin on his face. Almost.

"Uh huh. I was in advanced placement. I can figure out that much. What does the key open?" Kevin swirled the chair around so that he was facing the demon.

Crowley didn't mention how cute it was that Kevin was so proud of that little fact. It didn't stop him from thinking it. He offered his hand to the prophet.

Kevin pursed his lips. In for a penny in for a pound. He didn't expect anything from this, but it didn't seem like he had much of a choice but to be along for the ride. He supposed that was what the King of Hell had intended.

He felt his body become rigid as Crowley pulled him towards the door to the outside. No. No. No way. He didn't expect him to. There was no way he was going out there again. Even if he was going to have Crowley escorting him around. He didn't want to see that again. He didn't want to hear it again. He didn't want any part of it.

He tried to pull away. He tried to become dead-weight. Crowley gave a little sigh when he noticed how the young prophet had frozen up.

"It's not like that, love. It's the same door, but if you use the key it will lead to a different place. It's easier to travel that way," he had thought that Kevin would have a bad reaction, but he had hoped it wouldn't be the case. He figured that boy was smart enough to figure it out, but his 'fight or flight' instinct kicked into full gear when he got too close to that door.

Kevin seemed a little comforted, but he wore his distrust on his face. Crowley was sure by this point the little scamp was drawing blood with those nails of his on the knuckles of his. He couldn't deny that it was a bit of a turn on.

Crowley held out his free hand and Kevin practically tossed the key into his hand. Kevin took a deep breath when he saw the demon insert the key. He closed his eyes tight when he saw the demon reach for the door handle.

There was a small click. That was it. No screams. Just a click. Kevin opened his eyes slowly and he felt his heart stop a little.

He could hardly tell that this small voice belonged to him, "How?"

A/N: I'm sorry. I'm just so sorry. I'll get to work on the new chapter as soon as possible. Don't hate me, please? Feel free to speculate on what's beyond the door. I've actually been planning this moment since I started the story and I'm glad to be able to build up to it.


	7. Chapter 7: Neighbor

He couldn't tell if he was trying to be kind or cruel. He took a hesitant step into the room. His hand was trembling slightly as he rested his hand on a certificate displayed in a heavy oak frame. It was one of many, but the recipient was the same on each one.

A Cello was sitting on a stand near a large desk covered in papers and a computer. It wasn't just any desk. It was _his_ desk. Cream curtains tried to cover the large windows behind it, but the windows were stubborn enough to shine light that was what they had done. It was deceptively sunny outside. He could even see branches from the foliage from the backyard. He tapped the mouse to be greeted by an empty 'College Admission Essay' document. And an overdue timer for probability and statistics.

He shakily sat down in his chair, and stared at the empty file. He had been obsessing over that he didn't have anything to say in his essay. Now he had plenty to say and no one would ever believe it. Not that it mattered. Princeton wasn't in his future anymore.

He ran his hands over his cello. It didn't even have a layer of dust on it. It looked exactly the same as the last time he saw it. He knew it wasn't actually his cello in the same way that this wasn't actually his room.

"Why?" he repeated the question when he noticed that Crowley had stepped into the room. He needed to know.

"You said you didn't want to sleep on the couch anymore. I thought long and hard about where you would be comfortable. I thought this was quite clever," it was an odd sight. Crowley had sat himself down at the end of Kevin's bed.

It almost seemed like he was back in Neighbor, Michigan. If he ignored the demon on his bed, he might be able to think that he was back in his old life. If he opened that door his Mom would be on the other side, telling him to get back to his studies.

He walked up to his closet, wondering if he would finally be able to wear his own clothes or if he was just going to be full of more of Crowley's choice. He would kill to sink into one of his old pairs of pajamas and sit in front of his computer all day. Even if he was sure he wouldn't have an internet connection, he might still have some of his PC games. Of course he could always go for his books, but he had quite enough of that lately.

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful," this was actually only a half-truth, "But if my closet is now the bathroom, where are all my clothes?"

Kevin didn't see the little smirk on Crowley's face as he lifted himself from the bed and strolled over to the small room. "If you want me to explain you're going to have to let me through the door, darling."

Kevin gave a small sigh and leaned against the door frame. Enough room to let Crowley through, but not enough to make it comfortable. He regretted it the second he saw the smile on the demon's face as their bodies brushed against each other.

Crowley knocked against the wall exactly four times, and the sound of a latch unlocking clicked through the room, "Didn't want to ruin the illusion, you see."

This was insane. Everything in hell was an illusion. This was an illusion. What was really the point? It was driving him nuts. What angle was Crowley playing? Was he actually trying to be nice to him, or was this supposed to upset him? He hated how he couldn't tell. With Crowley, it almost had to be the latter, right?

"You see, this is bothering me," he leaned against the clean white walls, "I figured you'd be a little more cheerful than this," he reached out his hand to touch Kevin's cheek, "This was a lot of work. Give me a little smile, yeah?"

Kevin swatted at the hand and gave a little snort, "Oh, yeah. Thanks for raising me from the dead to torture me. And pretty much kidnapping me. Thanks so much for that. I really don't know how to pay you back for all of this," the sarcasm was positively dripping from his voice.

"Darling, if I was torturing you, you'd know it. You can't tell me that you don't enjoy my company. You drifted down to the basement often enough," he gave his telltale smirk.

"Wow. You really had a bad case of cabin fever down there, didn't you? I was barely down there. And that's because you kept requesting my blood in particular," he tried to keep the embarrassment from his face.

It made a weird knot in his stomach whenever the demon called for him. When Dean came into his room, standing in his doorway. He began to scan the Winchester's face every time. He knew that look by heart as time went on.

That wasn't even the most embarrassing part. Crowley wasn't delusional. Kevin did creep down to the basement. Sometimes he just needed a reminder that he wasn't the only person in the world. Sometimes he needed to know that he existed. That the world existed outside the bunker.

When he felt particularly bottled up, he'd shut his books, rub his eyes and made his way through the bunker. He had memorized the halls well. He could probably count out how many steps it took to get the basement from his room. Of course he wouldn't admit it. He'd fight the urge to hold his breath and he walked down the stairs. They'd barely creak under his weight. Since his diet had become rather irregular he had lost more and more weight. He'd swear that he didn't make any noise except for one thing.

'Kevin,' he could hear the deep voice from the other side of the wall, 'Miss me, darling? Oh, Kevin. You keep coming down here, but you never say hello. It's starting to hurt my feelings,' his voice was teasing. It never let off how much power he had lost down there.

He'd listen to Crowley calling for him. Singing for him. Trying to get any kind of reaction from him. That was what Kevin had needed. He needed Crowley to crave that attention. It had become a really screwed up anchor. But Kevin would never admit that he kept setting foot in there. Let alone that he had enjoyed it. And some way he had needed it. For his sanity.

"Kevin," that voice seemed to settle in his chest, "Kevin, darling. Are you still there?"

He hadn't realized. He had zoned out, "Where else would I be?"

"I suppose you're right where you belong," he felt a hand rest on his hip, and he felt a lump catch in his throat from the look.

A/N: Totally did not mean for this chapter to be so late. I am sorry. Lots of reasons that I'm sure you aren't interested in.


	8. Chapter 8: Crumbling Resolve

He wanted to protest. He wanted to tell Crowley he was wrong. The lump in his throat wouldn't disappear. He didn't belong here. He didn't belong with Crowley. He knew this. He was a Prophet. The last place he belonged was in hell, sharing living space with the King. It couldn't be more obvious that he wasn't supposed to be here. Then why did he think that if he said it, he wouldn't be able to make Crowley believe it?

He settled on rolling his eyes and giving a frustrated sigh. He knew that the demon would be able to sense his discomfort if he refused to make eye contact, so he steeled himself and looked him in the eye. Hoping that for once Crowley wouldn't call him on it.

No such luck, "You're acting a bit stiff, sweetheart. I suppose I have to admit that I love it when you get yourself all twisted."

"If I ever needed a reminder of who you are," Kevin muttered to himself bitterly. He didn't actually need a reminder to know who Crowley really was, did he? He wondered if he could trust himself anymore. His judgment seemed to be lacking.

The King of Hell had kept his hand firmly on Kevin's hip. He didn't remove it, even as he circled around behind him. He wasn't sure if he could breathe anymore. Maybe he had forgotten how. He could feel the demon's warm breath on his neck. Just hovering, almost teasing. How very like Crowley.

He let out a shuddering breath when he felt the demon's facial hair tickling his sensitive neck. Crowley kissed it lightly first. Kevin gasped when he felt the demon's teeth scrape against his skin. Crowley had been testing the waters. When he noticed that the young Prophet hadn't thrown a fit at the love bite he took it as a green light.

He made a loud, embarrassing yelp when the demon started nipping and biting his neck passionately. At first, all he wanted to do was escape. He had never had a very high tolerance for pain. He tried to shake the demon off of him by flailing his shoulder, but this didn't seem to bother Crowley in this least. Instead he felt the demon's well-manicured nails dig into his rather scrawny hip. Causing another less than masculine noise to climb out from Kevin's throat…

Kevin surprised himself when a loud moan filled the room. Crowley was now running a skilled tongue against the sensitized skin. It was making Kevin's skin tingle pleasantly and his body heat up. Even though his mind was fogged up from sensations he knew exactly what he was doing. He scolded himself. He told himself to do whatever it took to get away from Crowley. That was his mind. His traitorous body refused to separate from the demon's talented ministrations.

He could feel Crowley chuckle against his skin, his heart skipping a beat. How could Crowley have this kind of effect on him? He was uncomfortable in his skin, it felt like his heart was trying to beat out of his chest, but he almost desperately didn't want the feeling to stop. Was this what it was like to be on drugs?

His right hand held still on his hip, but he could feel Crowley's left hand on the other side. He gasped when he felt it slide underneath his shirt. He felt unreasonably aware of Crowley's hand. He wasn't normally cold, but the demon's hand was clearly warmer than his skin. And he couldn't keep his mind off the contact.

He tried not to whimper when Crowley turned his attention to the nape of his neck, leaving light kisses on his spine. Kevin's hand wandered, trying to grab a hold of the demon. He grabbed Crowley's forearm, digging his nails in. Crowley moaned against his skin. It made Kevin shudder. He could feel that moan vibrate throughout his entire body. Was it because it was against his spine, or was he just imagining things?

He couldn't help himself. He tried to twist around to get a better look at Crowley. He knew he should only be concerned with getting away from him, but he found himself curious about what look was on the demon's face right now.

He caught Crowley's gaze. There it was again. That look that he wasn't ready for. That unmistakable lust. He couldn't look away. He swallowed, hard. He didn't know what to do. He had always been quick on his feet. But now… Nothing.

He was shocked. Crowley let go of him. He couldn't understand. Why would he do that? Crowley circled around him. He placed his hand on Kevin's face. It was bizarrely comforting. Crowley was dangerous. He was cruel. He was the last person the prophet should want touching him. Why did he like it?

When Crowley leaned in for a kiss, Kevin wouldn't have been able to tell you why he didn't pull away. He knew what was about to happen. He told himself that he didn't want it. Why couldn't he bring himself to stop it?

His lips weren't rough, but they didn't taste like sweet Chap Stick. His beard tickled, but it wasn't completely unpleasant. He gasped when the demon bit his bottom lip. This was all Crowley needed to slip his tongue inside.

Kevin half-heartedly pushed at his shoulders. He could feel the King of Hell invading his mouth. He could taste Crowley's favored Craig on his tongue. Since he didn't know what Craig Scotch actually tasted like it was only a guess. Maybe what he was tasting was the demon himself.

Kevin broke the kiss. The only sound in his room was his own panting. He turned his cheek so Crowley couldn't go for a second round. His mind was swimming. He was furious with himself. He horribly confused. Why was his life so complicated?

To the young prophet's surprise, Crowley leaned forward to kiss him again. He didn't make a fight for the younger's lips. He merely placed a kiss on his cheek.

"Told you I know what I'm doing. You should really try to trust me a little more," it was his normal teasing tone.

"I didn't know this was supposed to be a trust building exercise," Kevin muttered, pushing away from the demon.

Kevin leaned on one of his walls. Not a corner. He didn't want to sit on his bed. He didn't want Crowley to see an invitation that wasn't there. What was he supposed to do?

Crowley took a relaxed walk to the door, "If you need me, I'm right next door," he turned back to give Kevin a smoldering look, his tone low and suggestive "And I do mean if you need me for anything."

The Prophet felt all the blood rushing to his cheeks. The breath he didn't know he was holding rushed out when the demon shut the door behind him. He found himself asking a single question.

"What did I do to deserve this?" he slid to the ground with a groan. He banged the back of his head lightly against the wall.

A/N: Oh, Crowley. He's just not the type that can keep his hands to himself. Despite the fact that Gencon is rapidly approaching and I have cosplay work to do, I have decided to try to keep on track writing chapters. Here is the latest endeavor in that effort. Hope you enjoyed it!


	9. Chapter 9: The Little Things

He stretched his legs, staring at his computer screen. He was oddly tempted to write out an essay for college. He had seen and done such remarkable things. There were also so many things that he'd rather not remember.

He looked through all his old files, wondering if Crowley had somehow lifted his old hard drive. Everything was here. The little files that made up his everyday life before he became the prophet. He smiled as he looked over some of his old files.

There was a game that he had started making in his free time. It hadn't been anything special. It was just puzzles. He had sent the first few levels to some of his interested classmates. He had to hide a smile when they were stumped.

He had tons of old ROMs stored on his computer. Some of these games were about as old as he is. He used to put on his headphones and steal a few moments of gameplay. He could generally shut it down before his Mom noticed he wasn't working on his school work. As he got further and further into high school he found that he couldn't even sneak a few minutes.

He bit his bottom lip as his finger hovered over the mouse. Even now it didn't really seem like the time to boot up some classic Zelda, but he hadn't been able to touch video games in…. He couldn't even remember.

"Mmm…. You look particularly delicious this morning. You seem to be cheering up quite nicely," Kevin couldn't help but jump at the sudden intrusion. He recognized the voice just fine, but he hadn't even heard the demon enter. Maybe he had some trap door or something. Damn. He was in Crowley's 'Kingdom'. Crowley might just be able to zap himself in and out at will.

"Well, there goes my good mood," Kevin swirled the chair around to look at Crowley. He tried his best to look bored, even though he had nearly jumped out of his skin seconds earlier.

"You know you can be downright cruel when you want to be," the Demon King teased, mirth reflected clearly in his eyes.

"If you think I'm so cruel, you could always drop me off on the surface. Anywhere in North America will do," he'd just call the Winchesters, probably move back into the bunker. This time with his Mom. Staying in hell with Crowley might not be as bad as he had initially thought.

The demon walked closer. Kevin could almost swear that Crowley's steps were perfectly measured. Though then he would probably have to admit that he had noticed something about the demon. So he'd have to leave it alone. He tried to keep the memories of their heated encounter buried. Crowley didn't seem to be bringing it up…

He tried to stay still as Crowley's hand lingered on his shoulder. He started to rub his shoulders gently, "Maybe I should repay the favor. All those massages you gave me earlier. "

The prophet could only hope that there wasn't an audible catch in his throat, "That's okay. I'd like to keep the physical contact to a minimum."

"Oh, darling. You shock me. That's got to be the least interesting thing I've heard come from your throat. And the most disappointing," it was hard to pick out exactly how the demon actually felt. It was the same charismatic tone as ever.

"I should congratulate myself then," he muttered. He expected to feel a little more pride. He figured that it was because Crowley was joking again.

He hated himself a little. He was kind of enjoying the gentle kneading Crowley was giving his shoulder. He was fighting the urge to make content noises. He wasn't going to give the demon any kind of satisfaction. He was sure there was a reason he was being so stubborn, even if he couldn't keep his mind focused on it. He had never gotten a back rub, and he had to admit that Crowley had very talented hands.

Kevin slapped the hands off his shoulders, even if his muscles protested, "Well, if you're going to stick around I guess I change out of my pajamas."

"And into something more comfortable?" the demon chuckled suggestively, his eyes firmly fixed on Kevin.

The Prophet shook his head, "No. I'm going to put on three horridly baggy sweatshirts, so you won't find yourself tempted."

Crowley looked genuinely upset at this comment. Kevin had to fight back the urge to laugh. After all this time, he should've guessed that would be the demon's great 'weakness.' Freaking pervert.

He took this opportunity to lock himself in the bathroom. He sorted through his clothes, looking for the most unflattering outfit he could possibly find. Honestly, most of his wardrobe consisted of button-ups and sweater vest. Ugh. Was he some bad nerd stereotype?

He almost jumped again when he heard Crowley working the door handle. Of course he had locked it. He stared at the doorknob. The jiggling stopped. Huh. It seemed weird that he gave up so easily. He decided to ignore it. No reason to put off getting dressed.

As soon as he started changing the door swung open. You could say something for the demon's timing. He backed away from the door and covered himself with the shower curtain.

"Oh. That's downright adorable," Crowley's eyes were scanning him like a hawk. Kevin never felt so embarrassed. He was tempted to start throwing things, but he didn't think it'd accomplish anything. Although if he did manage to hit the demon it sure would be satisfying.

Crowley had no problem closing the gap between them. At least he shouldn't have. He gave a rather curious pause.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Don't know what you mean," Kevin had to fight a smirk. He couldn't believe it.

"How did you manage this?"

Kevin took his time getting dressed behind the curtain. He scooted as close to the wall as he possibly could, "Why don't you use your powers? Not a good idea on a dimension you created yourself? That's cool."

The demon's lip twitched, "How did you manage this?"

"Well, it took a while. Etching a devil's trap with a piece of marble was pretty hard," Crowley's eyebrow quirked, "I took a piece of that statue. You know. I was in Advanced Placement. Kind of means I'm pretty smart."

"You know it won't take me long to get out of here," Crowley looked less than amused. It was worth staying up all night carving a devil's trap in the bathroom. Crowley needed to be reminded that he was a threat. That he wasn't some harmless toy he could drag around. The look on his face was a plus.

"Yeah, I know that," Kevin slammed the door in between them, " But at least I'll be able to play some Zelda in peace."

Feeling triumphant, Kevin Tran sat down in his chair. Familiar music started playing over his computer's speakers. It was really the little things in life that were the best.

A/N: What? I don't want to run off and play video games. You're imagining things. Oh, Crowley. Kevin's not just some adorable toy. You need to remember that. I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAYS. I got sick, but I'm doing a lot better now. I didn't abandon the story, I swear.


	10. Chapter 10: Mixed Feelings

Nothing in his life was simple. There wasn't a single simple relationship in his life. That's not to say that every relationship was deep and meaningful. They were all just endlessly complicated. There was not one person in his life that he didn't have mixed feelings about. How screwed up is that?

His mother. Now that one was pretty obvious. She meant well, but she was downright suffocating. It didn't matter how much time passed. That he was an adult. That he had proven himself countless times against demons. She would always see him as a child. He loved his mother, but she was beyond frustrating. It was hopeless. Things between them could never change because of her stubbornness. That didn't change the fact that he loved her. 

Channing. He cared for her. He even thought he loved her. He couldn't be positive about it. They barely saw each other. Channing pursued him. He felt lucky just to be wanted. She was pushy and demanding. He had always been so meek. He had grown so much over his ordeal. If he had met her now, would he still be fond of her? He knew the answer, and he didn't much like it.

He felt a certain kinship to Sam. Sam was normally good conversation whenever the younger Winchester had a few moments to spare, even if that wasn't very often. He could see the sympathy in Sam's eyes when he looked at him. He was getting more and more introverted, but at the time Kevin couldn't spare time or energy to dwell on it.

What could he say about Dean? Dean was strong. He was also boorish and stubborn. Dean knew how to soldier on. Sometimes Kevin wondered if that was all Dean knew how to do. Dean brought him what he needed to get the job done, but it was obvious that he cared about as much for Kevin's wellbeing as he did for his own. And if you listened to Sam for more than ten minutes, you would know that wasn't a hell of a lot.

He didn't even want to get into his relationship with Crowley. That was mostly because it was so impossible to describe.

When he first met Crowley he hated him. Over time he hated him even more. He didn't know that he could hate a person so much. He hurt him, and he made his life hell. Then he killed Channing. He thought that Crowley had killed his mother. He tortured him physically and mentally.

When the Winchesters brought Crowley back to the bunker, he was speechless. He didn't know how to express his outrage that they had dared to force him to share 'living space' with that demon. He knew that the Winchesters didn't have much choice when he looked back on it, but he couldn't help but be difficult given their past.

When he went down to the basement to confront the chained-up Crowley, he could tell that something had changed. Of course the Winchesters weren't forthcoming in information, but Kevin could tell that something was off with the King of Hell. It was only in reflection, because at the time he had been so pissed at the demon he wouldn't have noticed if they rest of the basement had caught on fire, and alarms started blaring.

Then there were the odd requests. He didn't know what information they needed from Crowley, but Sam had insisted that it was important. Then he gave him that soulful look. He didn't know why it was always so hard to turn down Sam, but he somehow ended up in the basement.

When they asked for his blood, he thought it was weird. Then again, everything in his life was weird. He shrugged it off, and gave in to the Winchester's blood drive. He really would've asked, but he had been working for four days straight and had a horrible headache. So basically he gave in because he couldn't stand the thought of a long conversation.

Then the Winchesters sat in his doorway looking awkward and uncomfortable. He assumed that it had something to do with Cas, but he put down the tablet regardless. He waited for them to start talking. It seemed bizarre that they were going to tell him something without Kevin having to pry it from them.

And then it made sense. He crossed his arms and shook his head muttering, 'No, no, no. That's not happening. Don't care. Shut up. Isn't happening. Do it yourself. He can just screw himself. I've done enough. Not happening.'

Dean shrugged and left the room. It was obvious that this went exactly as he had predicted. Sam held his ground in the room, looking tired with his eyebrows knit. Kevin ignored the sigh that he knew came from the younger Winchester.

'Look. It's crazy. I know it's crazy. I hate asking you to do this. Really. If we had any other option, I would've just ignored him. Doesn't the fact that we came down here to ask you show you how few options we have here?'

He bit his bottom lip and let his arms fall to his side, 'Yeah. But I'm really supposed to go downstairs and give him a backrub? Am I supposed to make pleasant conversation and act like I don't hate his guts too?'

'No. You just go down there and give him a backrub. You don't have to say anything to him. You don't even have to listen to him. In fact, it's probably best that you don't.'

Kevin gritted his teeth, 'No. I don't care. I'm not touching him. You do it. Better yet. Have Dean do it. I'm sure he'd love messing with him.'

'He doesn't want me or Dean. Believe it or not, we've done this already. He's bored of making gay jokes at Dean and waiting to see how long until he storms off,' Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, recalling unpleasant memories.

The young prophet shook his head, 'Then you better start praying to Castiel,' he leaned forward and starting speaking through clenched teeth, 'Because it's more likely you'll be able to get him to do it.'

Sam rubbed his temples. Kevin could tell the shape Sam was in, but he didn't really care. He was only on Team Winchester because he didn't really have any other option. He wasn't going to buckle just because Sam asked nicely every once and a while. Most of the time they were inconsiderate assholes.

'I'm sorry. I really am. I know this isn't easy. I know that you hate that we brought him here. I know what we're doing isn't fair. I'm sorry. But I still have to ask you.'

'You've asked me. I just said no. You've got your answer. Take it and go,' Kevin uncrossed his arms to shoo away the annoyance.

Sam stopped talking, but he continued to sit there. His gaze didn't falter. He just continued to look at Kevin with that same sad puppy dog look.

He knew he shouldn't push his luck, but it was now or never, 'You're working harder because the trials fell through, right?'

The look on Sam's face told him that he shouldn't have brought it up. It wasn't exactly Kevin's fault. Everything seemed to be a sore spot for the Winchesters. He wanted to know what had gone wrong, even if it was horrible. He wasn't a child. He didn't deserve to be excluded, just because he didn't do field work.

'Yeah,' Sam muttered under his breath, 'We should've closed the gates, but we didn't.'

Kevin gave a little sigh and shook his head, 'It's a Winchester thing, right? Family comes first, then the world?'

The pitifully sad smile on Sam's face said it all. Kevin had his suspicions. He was upset that it had gone awry after all the work he put into it, but he had known that it must have come down to the world or one of their lives. He knew what they'd both always choose.

'I don't believe I'm doing this,' he muttered walking briskly past Sam, dodging past a surprised Dean, who had likely been eavesdropping and straight down into the basement.

He started his descent on the stairs loudly, his footsteps angry. He could hear the demon starting to hum on the other side of the 'dungeon'. He felt even more annoyed. He didn't look back, even though he knew that the brothers followed him.

When he entered Crowley opened his mouth and Kevin stated firmly, 'Shut it.' Crowley's eyes widened in mock surprised and his mouth formed an, 'O' as if Kevin's actions shocked him. Kevin knew better. And he didn't really care.

'I'm going to do this. You better give the Winchesters what you promise. No if, ands or buts. And no loopholes,' Kevin said with irritated conviction.

When he noticed the demon's head nodding, he started rubbing his shoulders with a sigh. He paid no mind to the pleased noises coming from Crowley. He didn't really have any experience, and he didn't really care if the demon enjoyed himself. Though it seemed that at least Crowley seemed to be enjoying it.

So for good measure Kevin decided to knead rougher. Crowley moaned loudly. He applied more pressure. He was rewarded with a pleased gasp. He should've known better. It didn't matter how rough he was, or if he tried to hurt the demon. Because Crowley liked pain.

The time for reminiscing was over. Kevin tilted his head back and looked towards the door to his bathroom. He heard movement. He saved his game file and exited out. It looks like play time is over.

A/N: Chapter 10. Oh, wow. Another milestone. Honestly when I started writing this fic, I figured I'd just write a few chapters. I thought that no one would be interested and I'd wind up dropping it after a month or so. But oh my god. People are reading this? Seriously? Thank you guys so much for sticking around, reading and reviewing. You guys mean so much and you're the only reason it's made it this far. ShadowWriter2199 has actually translated this into Spanish. I'm both shocked and amazed. If your first language is Spanish and you think you'd be more comfortable reading it in that format, I encourage you to read her translation.


	11. Chapter 11: It's All Fun And Games

He felt a breath catch in his throat. The door shook; he could feel the world moving around him. Whatever Crowley was doing in there was working. Soon Kevin was going to answer to Crowley for locking him in the bathroom. He wondered if he was going to regret this stunt.

He turned his chair around and stared at the door. The noise had stopped. The trembling had stopped as well. That was a bad sign.

He watched the doorknob twist, almost in slow motion. The King of Hell emerged from beyond the door, straightening his tie. He looked displeased.

"Kevin Tran," his deep voice rumbled, "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Huh. There was a monster in my closet," he didn't really think about it as the phrase came from his mouth, but it came out all the same.

Crowley's frown faltered, "What did you just say?"

Kevin could've hit himself. It was just something that he had found funny. And here he was, in trouble about to make another wiseass joke, "You were in my closet. And now you've come out."

He heard Crowley click his tongue against his teeth, "Really? That's the best you've got? I say, 'Defend your actions' you go for the closet jokes? Really a cop out when it comes to comedy, and definitely not the fast track back to my good side."

Kevin sighed and swirled his chair to face his computer again, "You have a 'good side'? That's news to me."

Crowley clicked he tongue and roughly pulled the chair so the Kevin was once again facing him, "Running out of patience, love. Tick tock. Tick tock."

Kevin rolled his eyes, even though he was started to feel a little intimidated by the serious tone to Crowley's voice, "What exactly happens when the timer runs out?"

The demon's voice was low and dangerous. One simple word sent a chill down the young Prophet's spine, "Punishment."

He felt himself swallow involuntarily. He knew for a fact that punishment was something that Crowley prided himself on. He knew that Crowley was good at it. He had lived it, very briefly, and he didn't want any more of it.

That still didn't mean he would apologize. He wasn't that weak. He wasn't going to grovel to Crowley. Never. That didn't mean that he would do nothing to prevent this from happening. He knew that Crowley was one thing above everything else. A business man. He just needed to find a proper deal.

"Uh… " he gave a small amount of nervous laughter, "You want a back rub?"

His expression didn't change in the slightest, "Try again, darling."

Kevin took a deep breath and rolled up his sleeve, "Do you want to take some of my blood? You always said that you liked mine the best."

"It's always the cute ones. Are you trying to be my dealer? Offering the addict a hit? Sorry, sweetheart. I kicked that habit," while he was giving this little speech Crowley had placed a hand on both side of the arms of his chair and leaned in close. Kevin could feel the heat radiating off his body.

Kevin chewed on his lip a little, "Is that because you couldn't get a hold of the good stuff? I know you plan to keep me around, so you have a steady supply…"

"No sale," the demon said firmly. Kevin got the distinct impression that he should drop the subject. If Crowley really was off human blood, then he wasn't full of those complicated human emotions anymore. Meaning he was much more dangerous.

He couldn't think of anything else to offer. Well. Nothing he was willing to offer. He was sure that he could gain Crowley's favor, but there was no way he was going to lower himself to that level. No way. He'd rather take the torture.

That really left him in a pinch. He was staring down Crowley and it felt a lot like he was staring down the barrel of a gun when he looked into those eyes. He had actually done something to make him mad. He didn't think that this would cause such a reaction in the demon. He actually thought that the demon would take it in stride, and prank him in return at some point. He didn't expect him to get so furious.

"Time's up, Kev. Any last attempts or have you given up?" he could tell that Crowley knew he was stumped by both the phrasing and tone.

Kevin sighed, "Blank. I've got nothing," he muttered under his breath bitterly.

"Punishment it is," the way Crowley stood up slowly made Kevin uneasy. He was watching the demon closely, scanning for any signs of what he was about to do. Kevin finally understood what the phrase; 'You could cut the tension with a knife' was referring to.

Since he had been revived in hell, Crowley had never put a hand on him. He hadn't pushed him around. He had led him around in some ways. He had felt mostly like a pet that Crowley had taken home out of curiosity.

He had assumed that Crowley was still taking hits of human blood or had still felt the effects in some ways. He hadn't thought that the original Crowley would've wasted his time and energy bringing back Kevin for little to nothing to show for it.

As Crowley abruptly pulled him out of the chair and threw him onto the bed, Kevin wasn't sure. And he felt the fear that he had felt for Crowley that he had thought was extinguished, relight. He could feel himself starting to panic. As Crowley got closer, Kevin pulled himself up and started crawling away from the demon, nearing the headboard.

Kevin felt the breath catch in his throat as the demon grabbed a hold of his leg and pulled him back towards the foot of the bed. Had he been stupid for taking such a lax approach to Crowley? He knew the answer to that. Of course! Crowley was the King of Hell!

The young Prophet let out a rather embarrassing yelp. He felt a stinging sensation on his hindquarters. He looked back at the demon, confused.

Crowley sat at the foot of the bed, Kevin pulled halfway onto his lap. A smirk painted his charming face, "Darling, you've got to take your punishment," a loud smack resounded through the otherwise silent room, "Bad boys get spankings."

Kevin hated that he was relieved. He should be thrashing and cursing at the demon for being such a pervert, but he had to admit that he was glad that he got to keep all his fingers. He couldn't help but wince every time Crowley's hand came down on his ass. He swore that Crowley was going harder and harder with each spank.

He wanted to complain, but he now felt like he might be getting off easy. He winced again. If Crowley kept at it like this, he wasn't going to be able to sit comfortably for the next couple of days. He knew better than to bring that up.

Kevin bit his lip to keep from saying anything. That bastard! After he had finished on the last spank, his hand had obviously lingered to fondle his rear. Each slap left a tingling sensation. He was sure that his skin was red by now, though he'd rather not check.

He could feel the blood rush to his cheeks. He didn't even want to know what Crowley was thinking, even though he could probably guess. He wondered if Crowley actually had a number in mind, or if he was just going to continue until he lost interest. Kevin tried his hardest not to squirm even though he felt compelled to. He could hear the demon chuckling behind him.

He felt both embarrassed and attractive at the demon's constant attempts to sexualize him. And he hated that he kind of enjoyed it. He waited for the next impact. He had started breathing in coordination with the spankings, because he always inhaled at the impact. He scolded himself when he realized he had looked back at Crowley with a look of confusion on his face.

Crowley was sitting there, smiling. His hand hovered over Kevin's backside both a promise and a threat. A loud clap sounded through the room.

Kevin couldn't help but utter a simple, 'Ow' when the demon removed himself from underneath the prophet. He sighed. He could tell that Crowley was walking around the edge of the bed so that he could look at Kevin, face-to-face.

Crowley's tongue darted over his lips as if to moisten them. He leaned in closer to Kevin, giving a charming smile. He ran his fingers through the prophet's hair, almost lovingly.

"You're forgiven," he whispered, leaning in to give Kevin a chaste kiss.

A/N: Hrmm…. Should I have put a warning in for the spanking? I know it's not for everyone, but if I _warned_ people about the spanking, then the scene wouldn't have been as surprising. Okay. Show of hands. Should I have put warning? Or was it better to keep it surprising?


	12. Chapter 12: Treasonous Thoughts

He just looked so cute. Kevin would die from embarrassment if he knew the picture he was painting. His lips were swollen from all the biting. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes glistened. He looked downright delicious.

He looked puzzled. He couldn't help but kiss him. He tasted sweet. Crowley was amused that Kevin was still surprised by his advances. How darling was that? It wasn't as if he was subtle in his desires.

He couldn't just leave it there. This time there was no kicking and screaming. No balled fists hitting his shoulders. No pushing him away. Just shock. He took the opportunity to nibble on that lip that Kevin had been abusing. He felt a sharp intake of breath coming from the smaller. He grabbed the back of Kevin's head, making sure he wouldn't run away.

He'd nip at Kevin's bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth to give it a little suck. He made a darling noise that sounded dangerously close to mewling. Kevin really was his adorable kitten. He couldn't wait until he was all trained.

He wasted no time. He brought his tongue against Kevin's mouth, trying to gain entrance. He was being unsurprisingly stubborn. That was fine. The Prophet wasn't very hard to shock. Kevin's mouth opened as he gave a yelp when Crowley gave another firm smack to his backside. Two birds with one stone, really.

Kevin was really so innocent. He sat frozen, awkwardly. He obviously had no clue what to do. That was fine. Crowley really did enjoy leading.

He explored Kevin's mouth, revealing in the taste. There was something so uniquely delicious about munching on one of God's chosen. Kevin was definitely forbidden fruit. And everyone knows that's the fruit that tastes best.

Crowley gave a rather loud groan and recoiled from surprise. Kevin seemed to have gained his bearing somewhat. He had at least come to enough to bite the demon's tongue quite harshly. Not that he really minded biting. In fact, it was something that was generally a welcome addition to any pastime. He just hadn't expected the blighter to bite quite so hard.

He waited a moment for his tongue to heal. He didn't want to speak out loud until his tongue had healed. Whatever change to his voice it incurred, Kevin would likely not let him forget it. At least for a while.

"Kevin, darling. If you want to start with the rough stuff, we might want to put some thought into a safe word. I wouldn't want you to get in over your head," Kevin's reaction was always a delight. He was always so fresh. He was always so…. _Virgin._

"No," his eyes were slightly widened. He had to hand it to Kevin. His poker face was getting better, but that didn't do much to hide it from Crowley.

The demon shook his head, "You haven't done safe words before, have you? You need to be a little more creative than that. 'No' is far too mundane, sweetheart."

Kevin gave a derisive chuckle, "'No' isn't what I wanted for a safe word. I'm saying no to _having_ a safe word."

"Oh, don't you live dangerously?" The demon gave a small chuckle. He could tell that beneath that scornful gaze, Kevin was trying his best to hide away a blush.

"We don't need a safe word, because we aren't going to be doing that kind of stuff," he could tell that sweet Kevin was getting embarrassed just thinking of the application of what he was talking about. He really was such a shy boy. He was proud though. Kevin's voice barely wavered during that speech. He was gaining such control over himself.

Crowley shook his head, "Where's the fun in that, Kev?" He loved testing the boy's limit. Kevin was so resilient. It made him almost impossible to break. That didn't mean that Crowley couldn't find entertainment in watching the new and exciting ways that Kevin would bend.

Kevin sat up from the bed, readjusting himself. He scooted to the other end so that he could get up without having to brush against the demon, "Find your fun someplace else. Isn't all of hell at your disposal?"

Crowley shook his head and gave a 'tsk, tsk, tsk', "Oh, darling. You're much more fun than any demon. Honestly. Most of them are morons. I pride intellect in my companions."

Kevin rolled his eyes. He always looked so cute when he was frustrated. He didn't know when it was that he had become so fond of the prophet. "So now I'm your companion? Is that supposed to make me feel special or privileged?"

"I think you underestimate what being my companion can mean," he knew the power of tones. Using the correct tone at the right time could close any deal. Closing a deal with Kevin had proven difficult. Maybe that was part of what he liked about him. The challenge.

"Anything I want, I am fully capable of achieving using my own means. If you have natural talent and work hard there's no reason to sell you soul," Kevin always held such fire. He spent years breaking people with that kind of fire. Perhaps his new life experiences as of late were the reason that he found himself letting up on the boy when he seemed fragile. He wanted to break him in the beginning. But that desire ebbed away and was replaced by another welcome kind of desire.

"Oh, Kevin. That's so cute," Crowley leaned in, feeling no reason to hide his grin, "It's not your soul that I'm interested it.

He could see the boy stiffen from across the bed. He regulated his breathing, calming himself down. Just a small phrase. That was all it took to cause such a dramatic change in his breathing. He would've loved to see the effect it had on the boy's heart. He was sure that it was fluttering like a hummingbird.

He watched Kevin trying to control his body language as Crowley walked around the bed. He relaxed his fingers, unclenching his fists. Then he tried to keep the tension from his shoulders. He wondered how long it would be until he had a hard time reading the boy. It was probably still years off.

This time Crowley stopped midstride. Oh, boy. Did that thought really just come from his twisted little mind. 'It was probably still years off'. The implication being that Kevin would be around for years to come.

It's not like he really had any long-term plans for Kevin. Things had gotten quite boring and even more frustrating downstairs. He just wanted to see what enjoyment he could get from the boy. He needed a new way to relax. He didn't think about disposing of Kevin per say, but…. Years? It seems like he had gotten…. Dare he say it? Dangerously attached to the boy. He might actually be a weakness.

He almost laughed. He better keep that little tidbit to himself. He was sure that the bottom suckers would just love to hear about this.

He ran his fingers along the bedframe and rested his eyes on Kevin. His brow had furrowed. He had noticed that something was off about Crowley. Maybe he needed to work on his poker face? No. It was another side effect.

A/N: Okay. Wow. A chapter written in Crowley's POV. I felt like it needed to be done. It will remain mostly in Kevin's POV. If there is high demand, I might throw another Crowley chapter here and there as it suits the storyline. P.S. Had a brilliant time at Awesomecon! I got to meet Mark Sheppard and Sebastian Rosche'. FANTASTIC.


	13. Chapter 13: Loneliness

Something was off about Crowley. He was strutting about the room like his normal self, looking like he was about to pounce on Kevin, then... Then he paused. Not for very long. Just a small pause. Then the expression on his face changed. It was so quick that Kevin had no clue what it meant. Hell. He might've been able to convince himself that he had imagined the whole thing. But he knew better. He saw something. He just had no clue what it was.

"Stub your toe or something?" Kevin teased. He was testing the waters. He wanted to know what had happened, but he barely knew where to begin.

The demon looked... No. That couldn't be… Pride? He was proud? Oh, well. That was the last thing that the prophet had wanted to do.

He seemed to ignore Kevin's question and sat on the edge of the bed. His back was perfectly straight, his hands were folded in his lap. He just looked… Elegant. Kevin wanted to hit himself for the mere thought. That was the image that Crowley was going for. Was it really terrible to admit that he had accomplished it? Kevin knew the answer right away, 'Yeah. Probably.'

It seemed as if Crowley was going to say something. Kevin felt a certain anxiousness in his chest. Why didn't he say anything? Crowley had never seemed to have an off-switch before. No matter what you did, he'd never shut up. He seemed to be in love with the sound of his own voice. The prophet wanted to kill himself when the thought, 'And who could blame him?' bubbled up in his own mind out of nowhere.

No. Just no. He did _not_ find Crowley's voice attractive. It was gruff and deep. It absolutely did not send pleasant chills up his spine. Not in a million years.

Damn it! He was sure that the demon could read him like a book. Crowley had no doubt seen the look on his face and was ready to tease him until he felt like crawling under a rock, and felt completely justified for hating the jerk.

When Kevin looked over at the demon, he just gave him a smirk. He would rather die that admit that a mere smirk had caused a physiological change in his body. That he could've sworn that his heart skipped a beat. Never.

Kevin gave an aggravated sigh, "You're acting creepy. Will you cut it out?"

"Oh, sorry darling. Are you feeling lonely being so far away?" he practically cooed at the younger. They were mere feet from each other. But compared to how close Crowley generally preferred to be, it did seem rather far.

"Nope. I don't do lonely," Kevin could have kicked himself. He heard the bitterness in his own voice. Damn in. He let a weakness shine through.

Another weird look flickered in the demon's eyes. It was so brief. Maybe he was imagining things. The demon's eyes cast down and he gave a rather reminiscent smirk.

"You've got an awful cute brave face, but we both know that's a lie. A bad one at that. You should know better than to try that with me," the tone held a small amount of scolding. He heard a soft chuckle after he had finished his sentiment.

Kevin crossed his arms, "Okay. Then it's nothing I can't handle. I'm used to being alone. And you're hardly ideal company."

The Prophet's breath caught in his throat. He felt almost cut by the truth in the simple statement, "Sweetheart. You never get used to being alone."

He was too scared to bring it up again, but it was all he could think about. It was moments like this that made him quite certain. Crowley was still taking blood wasn't he? He seemed downright human right now. Could it really just be an act? He just wanted Kevin to feel sorry for him. To care for him. It could be more manipulation, but could a demon ever fake sincerity?

He couldn't stop his mouth. He found that he could control himself less and less these days, "That's the real reason isn't it? You didn't bring me back so that you could torture me with your little games. You brought me back because you were lonely."

Crowley looked downright amused by the statement, "Darling. I've got all the company I need down here. Besides. That doesn't really apply to demons."

"You keep talking about how much you hate the other demons. That they're useless morons. I doubt you'd ever think of them as company," his statements didn't seem to be bothering the demon at this point, but Kevin was almost certain.

"Keep telling yourself that. You've got such adorable little theories. I love the way your mind works," that predator look was coming to life on the demon's face again. It seemed that Kevin had unwittingly sparked something in Crowley. How did that happen?

Kevin felt himself conflicted. He still hated the demon. He certainly didn't want to be groped and harassed by him. There was a certain curiosity now that was never there before. Was he dosed up on human blood? Who was he when he was human? Was he some poor guy who unknowingly sold his soul to a demon? No. It was more likely that he knew the price and was just willing to pay it. From the Winchester's prospective, that still made him a victim. It was almost impossible to imagine Crowley as a victim.

He wanted to kick himself. While he had been distracted by his thoughts the demon had made his way across the room. Not that it was that great a distance... He felt the blood rush to his cheek as Crowley's hand made contact with it. He was suddenly embarrassed that his face had started to sprout a little stubble. He quickly banished that thought. As if that mattered!

His hands were warm, as they worked their way under his shirt. His shirts had always fit him quite snugly, so the extra hand and movement strained the buttons slightly. It almost tickled the way his hand danced over his skin.

Crowley leaned in, pressing his lips against Kevin's. His heart was fluttering. He told himself to pull away. Throw anything nearby right at the demon's smug face. It was true though. He felt lonely. He hated himself for it, but he wanted to be comforted. Crowley wasn't winning anything. Kevin was allowing it. Because he was tired of this cold, isolated feeling. He told himself that he would've let anyone kiss him.

For the first time, Kevin leaned forward. He pressed against the other's warm body, giving into the comfort of soft lips surrounded by the rough stubble. 'It doesn't mean anything.' Kevin whispered to himself in mind. It didn't matter if it was a lie. It was what he needed to think.

A/N: Sorry about the really long break. Just got a reminder from the wonderful, ShadowWriter2199. Honestly. I need the reminders or it just slips my mind. I'm a huge spazz. I know. Shouldn't have left it here. Hope this will work until the next update. I'll get typing ASAP.


	14. Chapter 14: Passion

It was overwhelming. He somehow felt surrounded. Maybe it was because of that intoxicating smell. Whatever cologne he wore was musky. He wondered how he could still smell it. He was sure that it would wear off rather quickly in this…. Rather harsh environment. It suited Crowley perfectly.

He could feel the hesitation in every muscle in his body. He had gotten much more bold since he left Neighbor, but there were still some things that he lacked nerve in. One of these things being his current desire to try to touch the demon. Everything about this screamed bad idea. He was already in Hell. It wasn't like things could possibly get more muddled.

He lifted his arms in tentatively grip Crowley's jacket near his bicep. He meant to grasp it gently, but he could tell that he was digging his fingernails. It's not like the demon would ever complain about 'rough' treatment.

He tentatively bit the demon's bottom lip. He could feel a deep chuckle rumble through his chest. It felt a bit bizarre, but he hated to admit that it felt surprisingly pleasant. He didn't feel the need to push the thought that it was Crowley he was pressed against out of his mind. Another warning sign that would have to be dealt with later.

He felt self-conscious, but he wasn't about let Crowley have all of the control. Even though he felt like making an awkward squeak when Crowley's hand brush a ticklish spot on his abdomen. This time he purposely gripped him hard and pushed him back.

"Are you done already? Disappointing," this wasn't said in his normal teasing tone, even if Kevin was sure that was what the demon was going for. His eyes were focused and they had a certain predatory look to them.

Actions speak louder than words. He wasn't sure if it was adrenaline or if Crowley was letting him, but when the Prophet pushed Crowley towards the bed, he toppled.

He would likely remember the look on Crowley's face for the rest of his life. There was no doubt in his mind that he had witnessed a genuine emotion on the King of Hell's face. And it was downright priceless. The look was quickly covered by a cocky smirk.

"Unexpected, but not-"

Kevin's bed made a loud groan in protest to the additional weight. After all, his bed wasn't exactly designed with two in mind. His chest hurt from how hard his heart was pounding. Was he imaging it, or could he actually feel the blood pumping through his veins?

Kevin bit his lip and crawled on top of the demon. He pressed his lips against Crowley's again. He hated alcohol. He had gotten stressed and delved into Dean's supply, but he hated the taste. But he loved the taste of Crowley's mouth even if he could taste it on his tongue. His cheeks felt like they were on fire from embarrassment.

Crowley really wasted no time. His hands were eagerly assaulting Kevin's body. "Mmpft!" the Prophet exclaimed, muffled by the other's lips. Crowley had decided that Kevin's button up just had to go and he decided to pull, rather than unbutton it, and the buttons snapped off with little resistance.

The younger felt a satisfying shudder travel through his spine. That demon really knew how to use his hands. They were rubbing soothing circles on his hips, and yet he couldn't help but arch and moan. If he denied that he was putty in the demon's hands, he'd be lying.

Kevin yelped when Crowley had decided to turn the tables on him. The air from his lungs escaped due to shock, and it seemed that the demon was determined to keep him breathless. He bit down on the youth's neck hard, causing a whimper to rip from his mouth.

"Wasn't that just delicious?" he mumbled into Kevin's neck. He loved those vibrations. He dug his fingernails into Crowley's shoulders. He was as harsh as he could possibly be. He felt a deep moan, "I love it when you're rough, darling."

Kevin grabbed the demon's silk tie, tugging it tighter around his neck, "It's Kevin. Not 'darling'. Not 'sweetheart'," he pointedly tightened it so that it would be close to strangling, "You can stop it with the cliché pet names."

This was one of those moments that Crowley found Kevin endearing, "Kevin, Kevin. I love it when you're feeling feisty."

Kevin released the tie with a pointed roll of his eyes. He opted to tangle his fingers in the demon's hair. He had always been curious of the texture. Of course it was soft and pampered. He made eye contact with the demon and bit his lip. Without any regret he gave a harsh tug. An appreciative moan came from his partner. He should've known...

The prophet decided that it was time to even the score. He started tugging at the expensive suit jacket. Crowley obviously had no concern for his things, so he wasn't about to go about it carefully. If it lost a few buttons on its tumble to the floor, then so be it. It was almost a shame to see the tie go… As soon as he could the first few buttons undone, he decided to attack the demon's throat. He tried mimicking what Crowley had done earlier and the older seemed to enjoy the results.

Kevin dragged his teeth against the sensitive skin. He was rather apprehensive since he probably would've described himself as timid in his previous relationships, but the moaning coming from Crowley told him that his attentions were well-received. He bit down a bit harder than he intended to when the demon's hands wandered south to cup his ass.

Kevin made a small huffing noise and gave another harsh bite to the demon's neck. Of course he should've remembered this would only be taken as 'positive reinforcement' to Crowley.

The King of Hell pulled back to admire his handiwork. Kevin was quite beautifully flushed, wide-eyed, and he looked so damn ripe for the taking. He was simply a work of art.

He panicked. It was all fun and games when they were rubbing against each other like horny teens, but when Crowley reached for his belt and starting unbuckling it reality started crashing down. No. He wasn't ready for that. He hadn't gone that far before. And he wasn't ready to surrender to Crowley completely.

"Off! Get off," he yelled and smacked his shoulder. He started struggling against the demon.

"Not now," he chuckled, "We're just getting to the good part," he emphasized his point by running his hand along Kevin's body.

"Get the hell off!" he yelled. He went to punch Crowley in his throat, but the demon caught his fist.

They stayed that way staring each other in the eye for what seemed like ages. Crowley released the fist and gave an annoyed 'tsk' and hefted himself off the prophet.

"And they say I'm the master of torture," he muttered bitterly.

Kevin rolled eyes and chucked the suit jacket at the demon, "Get out of here!"

The look on Crowley's face easily showed his mood, and how he felt about the abrupt change in the atmosphere. He left all the same, jacket draped on his arm.

After Kevin heard the door shut, he counted to thirty. When he was certain the demon king wasn't returning, he hung over the side of his bed. He snatched the tie off the ground and starred at it from his hand.

He gave a loud sigh and gave a frustrated groan, "What is wrong with me?"

A/N: Yeah…. Kevin is all over the place. I'm trying to keep them both in character, and I really think that poor Kevin would have a hard time coming to terms with any kind of relationship with Crowley. I know the story's pretty slow, but thanks for sticking around.


	15. Chapter 15: Lucid

What was he thinking? He held that same tie clenched in his whitening fist. He was still sitting around in his nightclothes, though he couldn't tell if it was an inappropriate time for them. He didn't know what to do with himself. The encounter with the demon king had left himself just as needy and desperate as Crowley was himself. At least Kevin had come to that conclusion.

He stared at the door that he knew led to Crowley's office. He didn't take entering it lightly. Since his 'confrontation' with Crowley, there had been little sign of him. He knew he really should be grateful of his absence, but he couldn't appreciate it. He enjoyed the attention. Now that Crowley wasn't giving it freely... He didn't know what to do with himself.

His hand hovered over the doorknob, and he swallowed hard. He shook his head. If he went through that door it would truly be the dumbest thing he had done in his life. (With the obvious exception being his teaming up with the Winchesters.)

When he started turning the door knob it sounded so much louder than it should've. There was no turning back. He wasn't sure why he felt compelled to be close to Crowley, but he knew he did. It was probably Stockholm syndrome. He dropped the tie and stepped foot through the door.

It seemed like it had been so long since he had set eyes on the overly pretentious office. He held his breath as he scanned the room. Crowley sat in his chair, no his throne, shifting through what seemed to be endless documents. He either didn't notice Kevin or didn't care to acknowledge that he entered the room. It bothered the young prophet how upset he felt at the thought of the latter.

He felt kind of like shutting the door. Maybe he could waltz in and demand something. Like a different brand of shampoo or something. Something to give meaning to his visit to the office without admitting that he missed the demon's presence for some reason.

He slowly walked in the room, watching Crowley for any signs of stirring. Anything to show that he noticed he was there. He was sure that the demon was just ignoring him, so planning a sneak attack wouldn't amount to anything. He almost had to admit that the longing for esc ape was slowly ebbing.

He stopped suddenly in front of the desk and lingered. The silence was almost oppressive. He had never seen the demon king being so quiet. It wasn't just weird, it seemed... Wrong.

Crowley looked up from the paper work and his eyes met Kevin's with a gleam in his, "Did you miss me that much, darling?"

After such tense silence, Kevin could feel his body become relaxed. Not something that he ever thought would happen with any demon in the room, "I didn't miss you at all."

"Now, now. I don't have anything against lies. In fact there's a certain art form to deceit, but you clearly don't have the talent for it. For a while there I thought you might," he could hear the teasing tone in his voice. It seemed like things hadn't really changed that much.

Kevin rolled his eyes, "Thank god," he closed the distance between his index finger and his thumb, "I came this close to get complimented by the King of Hell. Good thing I managed to avoid that."

Crowley gave a cocky smile, "Oh? Don't worry. I can think of quite a few of your assets that I can compliment that have nothing to do with your mouth," it looked like something had just occurred to him, "Although..."

Kevin could feel the blood rush to his cheeks, "Don't you even think about finishing that thought!" he tried his hardest to make sure that his voice didn't squeak.

The demon shook his head as he stood up from his desk. Kevin felt his heart skip a beat when their eyes met again. It really needed to stop doing that. Maybe Crowley brought him back wrong or something...

There was no doubt how much confidence Crowley had. You could see it in every step his took towards the young prophet. Kevin was trying very hard to keep calm. Bad things seemed to happen when Crowley got too close. The worst thing was that he kept putting himself in the same position over and over again.

He cupped Kevin's cheek suddenly, and he found it difficult to look him in the eye. He had to fight the urge to lean against the contact. It wasn't long before he felt Crowley's lips on his skin. He gasped when the demon nipped on his neck.

He didn't stop. All the little love nips were making his skin so sensitive, he couldn't help but moan. He braced a hand on the desk to steady himself. His partner looked up briefly and gave a small chuckle before abruptly pushing Kevin against the desk. He couldn't stifle the yelp that came when he felt himself hoisted onto the desk.

Kevin pushed him back, giving himself enough room to throw his sleeping shirt to the floor. He felt embarrassed, exposed, but he knew that this was what he wanted. He didn't dare look at the demon. He was afraid that he would get spooked and run off again. He was so unsteady when it came to Crowley. He was never sure what he wanted.

He felt a lump form in his throat when he felt Crowley gripped at the waistband of his pants. His eyes snapped towards the demon when the hand wrestled past the elastic of his underwear. He shuddered and clung to Crowley's shoulders when he felt his hand coaxing his member to life. He buried his face in the crook of the demon's neck and moaned into his skin.

He had to have been pleased by this reaction, because he started sliding his hand to the tip, rubbing the slit. Kevin's hips buckled and his legs wrapped around the demon's leg involuntarily. He needed to be close to him. He needed more contact. His urges were as shameless as his body.

He felt the hand move down the shaft, and his breath hitched in his throat. The hand was much softer than he had expected a man's to be, but he couldn't complain about those masterful fingers. He knew just how to make Kevin's toes curl.

Crowley had no problem reducing Kevin to a whimpering, desperate mess. He was so inexperienced that every sensation set his nerves on fire. He couldn't stop himself from thrusting into the demon's hand. He wanted more. He needed more. He could feel himself unraveling and fast...

'Squeak'. 'Creak'. 'Thud'.

Kevin blinked rapidly, his eyes searching. He was on the floor of his room and Crowley was sitting in his doorway looking much like the cat that got the canary.

It only took the young prophet a few seconds to realize what happened. He grabbed the blanket from his bed and quickly covered up his hardened groin. He would never live this down.

"Well, well, well," Crowley shook his head, a chuckle to his voice. Kevin could tell where his eyes had settled and he found himself a little uncomfortable with that fact.

"Will you get out? I'm not in the mood to talk," he was having a hard time finding a position to sit in for this conversation.

"Oh. I could tell that. I'm not really in the mood to talk either. I am, however, in a very helpful mood," there was no question what the lewd man meant by that.

As soon as the demon made a move to walk further into the room, Kevin hurled a pillow across the room, and yelled, "Get out!"

A/N: Uhhh… Yeah. It was a dream. Likely the product of too much oppression. * stares at Kevin * I can't stop bullying the poor thing. Just when you thought things couldn't get more awkward for him. Well…. Yeah. Yeah it can.


	16. Chapter 16: Tag

Playmate Chapter 16: Tag

Every time Kevin got anywhere near the door he thought about his dream. And he instantly ran across the room. It had been a while since he saw Crowley, and he was initially thankful for it. He was surprised though. This seemed like the type of thing that he would be teased about mercilessly. He didn't really want to face him, but he needed some sort of social interaction and Crowley was really the only option.

Unlike in his dream, he made sure to get dressed properly. A couple extra layers, just to be sure. Resting his hand on the doorknob and took a reassuring breath and entered. He felt a shiver go down his spine. The chair was turned away, but he could clearly see someone rustling through the paperwork on the desk.

It was so much like his dream. But it was just wrong. He didn't really know what it was, but he could just tell. Every fiber of his being was telling him that he needed to turn around and retreat back to his room. He shouldn't be here.

Fighting every urge he walked closer. He looked at the hand browsing through the paperwork and halted mid-step. He knew what was wrong. That wasn't Crowley. It was his desk. It was his papers. But it wasn't the King of Hell. He didn't know who it was.

Kevin could feel his voice catching in his throat, but he couldn't let that stop him, "How would your boss feel if he knew you were going through his paperwork?"

The chair made an angry scraping noise as the intruder abruptly stood up. He didn't recognize this underling. Meaning it could've just been a new vessel, but it wasn't as if he went around socializing with Crowley's dogs.

"Is this where he's been keeping you? To think I was snooping through the files and he was just keeping you locked up in the closet," he seemed oddly smug considering he had been caught red-handed.

Well-groomed and prim. Exactly what he would've expected from someone working for Crowley. The demon king would demand no less. His brown hair was trimmed short. Passing by this man on the street, Kevin wouldn't find him intimidating in the least. But there was a certain sneer to his face that sparked a sense of danger. He wasn't safe. Where was that demon?

"Wow. You're a lot quieter than I heard. Word is that you were a pretty nasty piece of work when you were with the Winchesters," he sounded casual, but the hairs on the back of Kevin's neck where standing up.

He was watching him like a hawk. He was slowly trying to make his way around the desk. He was gradually trying to close the distance. There couldn't be a good reason for it. He noticed that the demon was trying to cut him off from his room. Kevin was forced to back towards the door out. Memories flashed through his mind. The heat. The smells. The heavy weight of all the things he had barely seen. Was it better than being close to this demon? There was no way for him to know.

It seemed as if the demon made his mind up for him. It was just a gleam, but Kevin knew. He was holding some type of weapon. He was trying to corner him with a something sharp. For once in his life, he couldn't afford to think.

He dashed across the room and grabbed the doorknob. He didn't have to look behind him to know that the demon had dropped the act. For some reason it seemed as if he had lost the ability to make rational decisions. He ran out of the door with his eyes tightly shut. He knew that he was risking knocking into something awful but after what he had seen...

He couldn't hear screaming anymore. Was it because he could only hear the blood pounding in his ears? It couldn't be. He could hear himself panting. He could also hear the demon following closely behind.

He had to risk it. He opened his eyes. Everything was completely different. It was dark, but there was no fire and brimstone. Cages upon cages of lost souls, screaming and reaching out to grab him. Like they could tell that he wasn't one of their captors. Their torturers. He wanted to help, but he wasn't much help to himself. It seemed like this area was mostly unguarded.

He didn't know if that was for the best. Would other demons help him to try to get an in with Crowley? There had to be some reason for the demons to want him dead. Would they just help the demon try to kill him?

There wasn't much of a choice for him, "CROWLEY!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. He was supposed to be in charge here. He didn't think his stay would be pleasant, but he hardly thought that he'd be weaving through endless doorways of wrought iron cages. He really wished Crowley had just left him dead...

His sides were stinging and his lungs ached. He had been doing nothing but lazing around in that replica of his room for god knows how long. He simply wasn't up to the challenge of running through a maze like this.

His heart dropped. He didn't know what it was, but his foot got caught on something. He was going down. He made a sickening noise on impact. He landed hard on his kneecap. He turned around to look at his pursuer.

"Pretty impressive effort," he did notice that the demon looked a little winded, but it hardly mattered now. He was caught and cornered. He looked around for anything he could use to defend himself. Unfortunately he was not so lucky.

Still the demon stopped his approach. His eyes widened and he started running the other way. He looked behind himself, but he couldn't see anything. A chill ran down his spine when he felt a gush of wind rush past him. It wasn't until he heard the barking and growling that he realized what the demon was afraid of.

He saw the demon go down screaming. Kevin closed his eyes, but he could still heat the hellhound ripping into the demon. Then everything went eerily silent. Kevin hadn't realized that he had stopped breathing. He could hear the dog approaching him now. It was breathing loudly after it's latest... Play date.

He opened his eyes. There was blood everywhere. He could at least tell where the hellhound was. It was just standing next to him. It was so much bigger than he thought those things where. He didn't dare risk moving.

"Good boy," the gruff voice was familiar, and Kevin saw a hand reach from his peripheral vision and seemingly pat the large dog on the head.

Crowley strode into Kevin's sight holding his hand out to the youth, "Causing trouble again, I see? What I am supposed to do with you?"

Instead of taking the demon's hand, Kevin slid back against the ground and gave a shuddering sigh. This was just too much. He could feel the prickle that came when tears where threatening to fall.

The Demon King gave a small chuckle, "Want to go home, darling?"

Kevin ruffled his own hair, gave a disheartened, 'ugh' and turned to the demon, "Yes."

A/N: OH MY GOD. I AM TRASH. I SHOULD'VE UPDATED SOONER. To explain something, the reason why hell had changed was this. The original was pretty much Abaddon's design. Crowley hadn't gotten things back to his way. Everyone knows Crowley's version of hell is quite a bit different. (Not that the hell-fire and pits don't still exist. They just are…. Farther from the public. Plus it is very possible that after Kev freaked the hell out Crowley would opt to put something less mentally scarring if Kevin tried that move again.)


	17. Chapter 17

What was he doing with his life? Now whenever he got too far from Crowley he started getting nervous. He tried to ask why the demon had wanted him dead, but Crowley muttered, 'Politics' and the young prophet decided to drop the subject. He didn't really want to know any more than he had to about the politics of hell.

So he started working out. He couldn't let himself be caught in another situation like that. He didn't want to be a victim. He didn't want to depend on Crowley either. Right now, he still had to. And he was worried with how content he felt about it sometimes.

When he heard someone opening his door, he felt so nervous he could almost feel his heartbeat in his throat. He hated how nervous he felt now. It was probably because he had felt so secure. It was silly of him not to think about how shouldn't relax. He shouldn't let his guard down. He was still in freaking hell for crying out loud.

Of course the one entering his room had been Crowley. Had he seen his brow furrow with worry? Impossible. Yet he couldn't help but doubt himself. Everything that led him to where he was, currently sitting on the floor in his faux room in hell, told him that Crowley did care. For some incomprehensible reason Crowley, the King of Hell, cared about his existence. What was more puzzling is that he seemed to actually care about his well-being as well.

Kevin looked up at him from his floor and their eyes met. He knew that it was a long shot but he found the request slipping out anyway, "Do you think we could go somewhere?"

It was the small things in life. It seemed yet again he had managed to surprise the salesman. He quickly shook his head and gave a small chuckle, "Did you want to go on a date, then?"

Kevin rolled his eyes and stood up from his carpet. He dusted himself and gave an exasperated sigh, "If I agree to let you call it a date, will we go somewhere?"

The demon gave a small frown and stroked his scruffy chin, giving it serious thought. Kevin marked that as an improvement, even if he said no. He never thought he'd get to the point where demon king would even pretend to consider it.

"There will be a few conditions," Crowley's hand dropped from his face and his arms folded. He looked quite serious, and Kevin finally got a feel for the phrase 'staring down the devil'.

He could feel the excitement bubbling in his chest and his rational mind kept telling him to squash the feeling. Ask Crowley one hundred questions about his terms. Then ask a few more to be sure. Never trust a salesman. Especially this one.

But his mouth really was such a traitorous thing, "Yeah. Whatever you say," just slipped out without his consent.

And the demon grinned such a dangerous smile Kevin felt instant buyer's remorse, "That's pretty dangerous phrasing in the business community."

Kevin gave a small sigh. He might never live this down, "Alright. Tell me about your conditions."

Crowley shook his head, "You've already agreed to them. I wouldn't worry about the fine print, sweetheart."

"Oh, no you don't," Kevin rushed across the room and grabbed the demon by his tie, "What did I just agree to?"

Crowley looked down at the prophet, a predatory gleam to his eyes, "Just know that there will be consequences if you try to escape. As long as you behave yourself, you've nothing to worry about."

Kevin slowly released the tie. Of course Crowley was going to be cryptic about it. He could probably push him for more answers, but he just couldn't wait to be someplace where he wouldn't be surrounded by demons.

The Demon King grabbed Kevin's hand as it still hovered and placed a firm kiss on the back on his hand. His beard left a tingling sensation on his hand. When he looked up at Kevin he looked very much like the gentleman he pretended to be.

He released the prophet's hand and walked back to the door, his hand hovering over the doorknob, "And dress for dinner, will you? It'd be a shame if they wouldn't let you in."

Kevin could feel the embarrassment coloring his checks. Of course they would go somewhere of Crowley's choosing. He knew he would be completely out of his element. He knew that had to be half of the appeal for him.

That being said, Crowley had provided many clothes that would be suitable in the closet. Kevin looked over the designer clothes, finding he had no clue what to wear. They all looked pretty nice to him, but this is one of the few areas that he could plead ignorance to. (Another being sports, of course.)

The first one he grabbed looked a little too much like the demon's for his comfort. He didn't want anyone to get the impression that he was mimicking him out of adoration. That would just be awkward. He was already trying very hard not to think about what people would see when they looked at the two of them.

His hand landed on a nice dark brown pin-striped suit. He found himself sporting a small smile as he pulled it out of the closet. He held it up to the light for a moment, looking it over with his eyes. Yeah. That'll work.

He started undressing and walking to the bathroom. He had no clue when they were supposed to eat out, but he certainly wasn't going to get dressed without taking a shower. He quickly locked the door. He knew that Crowley probably wouldn't try to invade the shower, especially after he had spent the afternoon locked in the aforementioned room. It was actually quite amusing. Crowley seemed pretty cautious of entering the bathroom, since it was the perfect place for Kevin to set a trap. And Kevin was clearly not above it.

He was telling himself to take his time. Make sure that he was shined up properly for wherever the demon was taking him, but he still found himself rushing through washing his hair. Normally he'd stay in the shower until his fingertips were pruney. He had really been cutting corners before his untimely demise, so it was nice to just let the warm water sooth his skin. Not now though. Now he was almost tripping out of the shower, rubbing a towel against his skin and lastly rubbing it against his hair hoping it'd dry soon enough.

He debated running out into his room in nothing but a towel, but he hadn't thought to bring his clothes into the bathroom with him. He pushed the door open slowly and peered outside. Nothing had been moved. There was no Crowley in sight. Maybe he was getting ready, too? He was sure he'd have to leave a long list of instructions for his 'brainless' followers. Maybe the coast was clear?

He left the bathroom, cursing the trick to change it back to his closet. Knocking on the door four times seemed so loud. He was sure that if Crowley was in his office, he'd hear him. He grabbed a nice white dress shirt and rolled his eyes at the color-organized tie rack. He could've guessed that the King of Hell was that anal? He grabbed a black tie, hoping that he couldn't really go wrong with that.

He threw the items on the bed along with the suit. He walked over to his dresser searching for a pair of underwear. He felt his cheeks flush whenever he thought about how even the boxer-briefs looked exactly the same ones he always wore. The contents were exactly the same except for the humiliating addiction of a few silky numbers he discovered underneath his normal garments.

Kevin jumped and hit his knee on the open drawer when he heard the door open. He cut back any cuss words and just let out a groan. He turned around to face the intruder. It was no surprise that it was the sharp-dressed demon.

"Ready when you are, Kev," his eyes wandered over the boy's exposed frame, "But I doubt putting on clothes could improve the view."

The Prophet grabbed his stapler off the dresser and tossed it across the room. He was aiming at Crowley's chest, but the demon moved and it made a loud crack against the wall behind him. He seemed amused by Kevin's actions, but paused to get another look.

He started to close the door and shook his head, "Moose and Squirrel haven't had much luck taking me down, but I might just end up killed by a Prophet with office equipment."

He looked in the mirror, straightening his tie. He wasn't even sure if he had done the damn thing right. He told himself that he was just screwing with Crowley. Making him wait. The fact was that he was a little uncomfortable with how long he had been fretting over his hair. And there wasn't even that much of it...

He figured it'd have to do. It wasn't like he was worried that he'd embarrass Crowley, but... He was worried that he'd embarrass himself. Then the demon was give him that smug look and wouldn't ever let it go. He loved getting any reaction from Kevin.

He slowly opened his door and looked around for the demon. He was sitting at his desk, nursing a glass of scotch. He looked troubled and was rubbing his temples. This was the kind of behavior he normally saw after Crowley had gotten into an argument with someone, generally leaving the second party deceased.

"It's really unnerving how well these clothes fit," he wanted to break the silence, but he hadn't been sure what to say. This was just what happened to come out.

Crowley gave a mischievous wink and put down the glass, "I've got the eye of a tailor."

Kevin gave him an unconvinced look, but didn't press the matter, "So... You're ready, right?"

The prophet felt a familiar nervousness as the demon looked him up and down, "Of course. That looks delicious on you. I knew you'd like that one."

Crowley stood up from his desk and closed the distance between the two. He held out his hand as an offer to Kevin. The boy crossed his arms stubbornly. When he realized that the demon had no plans of moving on until Kevin grabbed his hand, he decided that it would just be best to submit at this point.

They started walking towards the door together and Kevin found himself tripping up. He had blinked and the scenery was different. They were in a large city and he was suddenly standing on asphalt. Kevin looked over to the older, more than a little shocked. Crowley seemed to be proud that even after all this time; he could still manage to shock the prophet.

"Okay…? Where are we exactly?" Kevin didn't care that he was clutching Crowley's hand. He was a little disoriented after all.

"Does it matter? We'll be in a nice restaurant away from all this pointless noise soon. I wouldn't fret over the details, Kev," this was said in a soothing tone, and that was exactly the effect it had on Kevin. That was another red flag, but Kevin started ignoring those a long time ago.

He was sure they were still in America. People were still speaking English and he could hear American accents. Were they in New York? He didn't see any familiar landmarks, but the amount of people... It could probably be any major city in the U.S. He still clutched to Crowley's arm in the unfamiliar territory. He hadn't known why Crowley was so certain he wouldn't make a run for it, but it turns out that the demon was completely right.

Kevin hadn't even been sure when they approached the building that it was a restaurant. It was more than obvious when they passed through the doors. It was all so elegant. Kevin felt very much like a child walking into this place. And the way everyone stared... Maybe that's what they thought too.

The Maître-D didn't even seem to blink an eye. But he gave a courteous smile and a little bow as soon as he saw Crowley, "Mr. Roderick. The usual table, sir?"

Crowley waved his left hand, making Kevin extremely aware of how he was /still/ clutching the demon, "Of course. And you know I don't like to wait."

"We'd never dream of making a man of your standing wait," the prophet rolled his eyes at the blatant ego stroking. No wonder Crowley liked this place.

They followed the Maître-D to Crowley's apparent usual spot. Kevin's lip twitched when he noticed that the demon had separated from him only to pull the chair out for him to sit down. He wasn't sure if he should accept, but Kevin just couldn't stand the amount of people staring at them. So he sighed and sat down. He could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. He knew that he wasn't imagining the amount of people watching them.

He groaned inelegantly as he was quite certain he heard someone mutter the phrase 'boy toy'. They had /no idea/ how big the actual age difference was. He was sure Crowley could hear it, but didn't seem to mind. Hell. He was probably enjoying the attention. That was one thing Kevin could never understand.

Kevin found himself hiding behind the menu when the waiter approached, carrying a glass of Crowley's favorite. Now he was sure that this was a place the demon frequently. When the waiter asked what 's guest would like. He muttered, 'water.' Of course blushing when he realized that he had to repeat himself.

Crowley chuckled over his behavior. Yeah. He definitely felt like a child here. But he refused to shy away from this. He pulled himself up to sit straight. He looked down at the countless amount of silverware set in front of him. I guess his mother was right. He might eventually find himself in a situation where he needed to know which one was the salad fork.

Of course. None of the items on the menus had prices. He supposed it didn't really matter. If he did know the prices he probably would've just ordered the most expensive thing out of spite. It wouldn't have any effect on the demon king anyway. Crowley practically bled gold from his understanding.

Lobster. He'd order that. It was probably expensive, right? And it's not really like it was something that was normally brought to him. Though if he had requested it, he was sure that Crowley would've made it happen.

Crowley smiled at Kevin, not making any indication that the waiter had returned, "The usual." He didn't even spare the poor man a glance as he sat Kevin's water down in front of him.

If he didn't go for it, he'd probably regret it. If he did it, he might never be allowed out again. He found that he was willing to risk it. He opened his mouth to speak to the waiter. Nothing came out. He was trying to say, 'Hey. This guy kidnapped me. Call the police.' But nothing. Why couldn't he say anything? He heard Crowley chuckling. This was one of his 'precautions'. He should've known.

"House special," Kevin barely managed to choke out. The waiter looked like he was starting to get worried. He looked over to Crowley, but when the demon waved him off he decided that the boy must be alright.

"Naughty, naughty," Crowley leaned over the table and whispered across. Kevin could feel Crowley breach the space underneath the table, putting a hand on his knee, "I didn't know you wouldn't even wait until after you were fed to bite my hand."

"Just getting it out of the way. Wouldn't want you to get complacent in old age, you know," Kevin brushed the hand off of his knee. It was good to know that Crowley could enchant him without his knowledge. Though he expected as much from him.

Crowley frowned a bit at the age comment and then shook his head, "Oh, Kevin. Nothing beats a classic."

Kevin found himself laughing lightly and shaking his head, "Classic or vintage?"

The demon gave a good-natured chuckle, "You're testing me now, aren't you? Don't worry. 'Classic'. 'Vintage'. However you want to put it. I'm in very good condition."

Of course he managed to pick the perfect time to make Kevin spit take. He could barely hear the passing waiter click his tongue at the behavior. Oh, man. Crowley was going to get it later!

Crowley caught the attention of a waiter and ordered glasses of wine that said waiter commented, 'Oh. Good choice as always sir. That will compliment your meals perfectly.'

Kevin rolled his eyes yet again before he jolted up and leaned over, "Hey, hey, hey. I'm nineteen. I don't have an ID or anything."

Crowley gave an outright laugh, "You're dining with the King of Hell and you're worried that they're going to card you?"

Since he put it like that it really did seem silly, "Oh, shut up. It'd not like they know you're the King of Hell," he paused, "They don't know, do they?"

The demon hesitated to tell him. The prophet knew that it was only because he wanted to mess with him," No. Of course not. Can't have everyone knowing my business, can I?"

"They probably wouldn't call you Roderick if they did. Why do they call you that, anyway?" Kevin tried to ignore that the older had started playing footsie with him under the table. That was waay too cutesy. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel about this.

"It's irrelevant. Just an alias. Nothing to put much thought into," his hand crossed the table curling around Kevin's. He hated how his heart fluttered.

It really looked like a date. Everyone in this restaurant thought that he was dating Crowley. He wasn't really upset about it. He was just... More embarrassed than he ever had been before in his life. It seemed so easy. So natural.

Kevin sighed and laced his fingers through Crowley's. He had told Crowley that he could think of it as a date. He might as well act the part. Though he could feel even the back of his neck heat up when he heard some women giggling from another table.

He felt that he could die when he heard them whispering, 'They're pretty cute together.' The second girl laughed, 'I told you they were together.' He could tell that Crowley was just eating up the look on Kevin's face. He was so glad that the gossiping girls were sitting behind him.

The prophet jumped visibly when the waiter returned with their dinner. How long had they been sitting there playing footsie? There was normally a pretty significant wait at a place like this, right? He always got so wrapped up in Crowley. He scolded himself for the unfortunate wording.

It seemed that Crowley had ordered a nice cut of steak. It looked so perfect that it could've been photo shopped. The house special seemed to be some sort of seasoned veggies and meat. It smelled so fantastic it was hard to keep from drooling. Maybe it was because he hadn't eaten for a while, but he was ready to dig in. But he promised himself that he would show restraint and display what manners he had learned from that etiquette class he had taken when he was twelve.

He told himself that he knew what he was doing, but he still couldn't stop himself from peeking over to Crowley for 'hints'. When the waiter poured the wine, Kevin looked at it skeptically for a moment before grabbing a sip. It wasn't as if he hadn't dipped into Dean's private stash before. Quite a few times in fact. It seemed so different in a public setting. He knew that Sam would give him that worried look, and Dean would complain under his breath about Kevin hitting his stash. But there were not really any consequences.

He knew it wasn't really the time to ask, but he had been thinking about it for quite a while now, "You've been in a pretty bad mood lately. You look more tired."

Crowley chuckled wryly shaking his head, "Oh, yeah? Are you going to offer me a spot in your bed?"

Kevin scoffed, "Really? That's what I get for trying to have a real conversation with you. I won't try that again."

The demon sighed and run his hand tiredly through his hair, "I've had a lot on my plate recently I suppose. I have no patience for the company I'm forced to keep."

The younger stretched his legs feeling self-conscious of their legs rubbing together, "You're the King of Hell. And you're stuck dealing with people who annoy you? You'd think there was something you could do about that."

Crowley set his glass down and gave the prophet an incredulous look, "Kevin Tran," he dragged the name out in a sing-song manner, "Did you just suggest I off people who bother me? I'm shocked. I'm... A little proud, I admit."

Kevin choked a little on his delicious greenery, "What? No, no, no," he hadn't noticed how quickly his hands had been moving, "I meant. Well. That's not what I meant. Couldn't you just send them off to work someplace else?"

"Unfortunately, that's not really an option. Sweet of you to worry about my work day. I'm sure you'd make a charming house-wife," Crowley's hand reached across the table again, possibly seeking warmth.

"No," it was a simple statement. To the point. No nonsense.

The demon's face scrunched up slightly in confusion, "No?" he questioned, an endearing tilt to his head.

Kevin straightened his back and crossed his legs, "There's nothing wrong with being a housewife, but that's not what I want. There's no way I'd ever be content with that. I'm not going to be stuck down here forever. Am I going to go back to being a hunter? An important member of Team Winchester? Maybe. Am I going to go back to school? Maybe. Who knows? I might get to be the first Asian-American President of the United States. But that's my decision."

Crowley gave a bite to his bottom lip, "It's always such a turn-on when you assert yourself."

Kevin felt his confidence deflate a bit at the embarrassing comment, "As long as you understand that."

It was obvious that the waiter was waiting for a better moment, feeling as if he might be interrupting something. He was glad that Crowley didn't seem to be feeling snappish. He gave the poor man a look and he explained himself, 'Would you care for dessert?'

"No, that's alright," Kevin savored the look on the demon's face when he decided to speak for the both of him. At first Crowley actually looked livid. Then his face melted in amusement. He really enjoyed it when he could read the elder's expressions. "I really don't think I could eat another bite."

He gave a light bow, "Very well, sirs. I'll fetch your check. If you require anything, do not hesitate."

Kevin figured he shouldn't have been surprised that Crowley paid in cash. If anyone had figured out how to track a credit card of his without his knowledge... It stands to thought that Crowley wouldn't want to leave a trail with any place he frequents. Cautious bastard.

When Crowley gets up Kevin rushes over to his side, grabbing his arm. He was pretty sure this is how he's supposed to get back. Not that he's particularly eager to, but... He does note that a woman at the bar gives him a pretty jealous look as they pass. Maybe she's a regular that Crowley bought a drink for on occasion?

As they leave the restaurant the younger feels a bit light-headed and stumbled a bit, landing ungracefully on his behind. He found himself eye-level with a certain part of the demon's anatomy that he tried to pretend he had little interest in. He was a bit embarrassed about how tightly he clutched onto the man.

"Feeling alright down there, Kev?" the demon teased, but the smirk was quickly wiped off his face when Kevin punched him in the side.

The King of Hell gave an exaggerated groan, and Kevin pulled himself up using the demon's arm. The demon didn't realize in the commotion what the prophet had snuck off of him. Kevin himself didn't believe he had gotten away with it, even after he had slammed his bedroom door in the demon's face. His heart beat was painfully frantic.

He looked down at his sweaty hands that clutched his prize. It was Crowley's cellphone. He opened the contacts list and stared at the contents. Most of the names he didn't recognize. He could easily guess who 'Moose' and 'Not Moose' were.

His hands were trembling as he pressed that little green button. He held the phone up to his ear. He was surprised to hear it connect and to hear it dial out. He pressed his body firmly against the door, expecting Crowley to start pounding against it any minute now.

He hear someone pick up and a comfortingly familiar voice came through clearly, "What the hell do you want Crowley?"

It was Dean Winchester's voice. It was deep, and clearly very annoyed. He could hear Dean get out of his prized Impala and the door slam behind him.

"Crowley's calling you?" Naturally it was only a matter of time until he heard Sam. The Winchesters were rarely alone. He had always found that Sam's voice was a little more soothing that his older brother's.

"Yeah, but he's not saying anything. What the hell do you want? I don't have the time for this crap," he could hear the trunk opening and could clearly imagine them checking their weapons for their next fight.

"He's not saying anything?" Sam sounded rather unconvinced. He thought of the tall man leaning against the trunk with his eyebrow raised.

"You've got to be kidding me. I did not just get butt-dialed by the King of Hell. What is my life coming to?" Dean gave a loud frustrated sigh, "If you don't fucking answer me in the next ten seconds I am hanging up on you."

He had been so relieved to hear their voice again, he couldn't think of any words to say. Every time the Winchesters left the bunker he was worried that it was the last time he'd ever see them. Lord knows they're reckless. Just hearing their voices. Knowing that they're still alive. That they're still the same Winchesters, carrying on no matter what. It was like he suddenly knew that there was ground underneath him again. He knew from the second that Dean said that he was family to them that it was true. The Winchesters were his family, as he could feel tears of relief welling in his eyes now that he knew that they were alright.

He could hear the phone getting snatched; "Crowley?" this time it was Sam's voice coming through.

It was like when he was in the restaurant. He couldn't speak. He knew that it wasn't Crowley's magic preventing him from speaking. He was hesitating. Sam and Dean were on the other side of the phone. If he spoke up now, they would stop at nothing to get him back. When Dean said that they would die for him, Kevin genuinely believed it. Something was stopping him. No. He was stopping himself. There was a part of him that wanted to stay. He wasn't ready to give up his weird life by Crowley's side.

"Hello?" Sam's voice was quite as a whisper, "Dean," he could picture Sam straightening up, his eyes wide as he looked over to his brother, "I think I hear crying. I don't think that it's Crowley on the phone."

Kevin gave a shuddering gasp and covered his mouth with his free hand. He didn't know he had been making so much noise. This was his only chance. He was sure that he'd never get another chance to call them like this. If he didn't tell them now, they might never know who called.

"Do you need help? Where are you? Is he around?" despite how much they were dragged down, he could still hear such sincerity in Sam's voice. They would never lose passion when it came to saving someone.

When he hung up, he felt a powerful sob wrack his body. He had the key to his own cage, but he wasn't sure if he could ever bring himself to open the door. He felt a light kiss to his forehead and the phone being pulled from his hand.

"There, there. You made the right decision. I'm not mad," he didn't know how the demon had managed to get in the room, but there he was.

He wiped the tears from his face in an act of pride, but gave up and leaned against the demon, "I don't know why I did that," he confessed.

Crowley comfortingly ran his fingers through Kevin's messy hair, "I wouldn't worry yourself about it too much. Love makes you do crazy things."

A/N: This is a pretty huge turning point for the story, thus I give you a pretty big chapter. I'm really sorry it took so long, but I have had this planned from the beginning so I was really cautious about how to write this. Winchesters are guest stars in this chapter, which is probably about damn time all things considered. I hope Kevin doesn't seem too OOC, but he is going through a great time of stress and now suffers from Stockholm Syndrome. Reviews greatly appreciated! (And much apologies to Alice, no frickle frackle yet.)


	18. Chapter 18: Hiding Something

The air was tense. Sam stared at his brother's back as he rummaged through his duffel bag. They had another argument. Dean was emotionally compromised. The mark was taking its toll, and he wasn't in the mood to deal with Crowley.

Sam had to wonder if it had anything to do with his stint as Crowley's 'bestie', but he knew better than to bring that to the argument. Dean paused his rummaging and rubbed the back on his neck with his hand. He was thinking. He dropped the bag and rushed to the minibar in the dank motel room and grabbed a beer. He promptly popped it open and chugged down half the bottle.

He shook his head and stared down his younger brother, "Have it your way, Sammy. We'll call up Crowley. It isn't going to do anything but give us a headache and probably make us feel dirty."

Sam smiled and shook his head, "Thanks Dean." It was small concede, but it was the little things that made him so sure that his brother was still the same man he looked up to as a child.

Dean ran a hand through his hair and gave his brother a pointed look. He pulled out his phone and flipped through the contacts. He gave Sam another look as if to say 'Last chance to change your mind' before sighing and pressing the call button.

He gave a sigh waiting for the demon to pick up. It wasn't as if Dean wasn't concerned about the voice that Sam said he was sure was crying, but he knew that it was unlikely that person was still alive if Crowley wanted to do them harm. Especially if they had gotten close enough to the king of hell to steal his phone. Regardless, he'd make the call for Sammy.

Dean shook his head when it hit the answering machine. Maybe Crowley's phone had gotten wrecked by whoever had made off with it. "No one picked up Sam."

Sam frowned. Dean was sure by the look on his younger brother's face that he wasn't through with this, even if Crowley didn't feel like co-operating. He wasn't going to just forget about it. Then he saw Sam's shoulders tense up, and he quickly stood up. He looked defensive and Dean instantly turned to follow Sam's line of sight.

"Hello, boys," the deep baritone was familiar, as was the arrogant smirk on the demon's face. Dean was alright. He already felt dirty.

"Wow. That was fast. You came all the way out here without an argument? Special occasion," Dean took another chug of his beer, watching the demon closely. Though he found it hard to feel threatened when he had the mark. That made the warning bells go off.

"Let's just say I had a feeling I'd have to make an appearance and I felt like was better to yank the metaphorical bandage," the demon looked around the pitiful room, wrinkling his nose at what germs couldn't be seen in the room.

"You know what this is about," Sam swallowed and it was obvious that he was holding back his temper. Sam patience with Crowley was non-existent because he blamed the demon for the mark being placed on Dean.

"Sam, Sam, Sam," he sighed and shook his head, "What ever happened to small talk?"

"The person who called us," the sound of Sam's gun cocking was unbearably audible in the silence, "What did you do to them?"

Crowley gave a smile, "Oh, Sam. Absolutely nothing. I assure you no harm befell the one who used my phone."

"You're lying," Sam bit out from clenched teeth.

Crowley made a 'tut tut' noise to belittle the tension in the room. When he looked to Sam it was clear that his statement had made the demon angry, "I might be adept at finding loopholes, but I don't lie."

Dean furrowed his brow. As long as he had known Crowley that had been an accurate statement. He misled. But he didn't outright lie. That just wasn't his style. And what he said he couldn't be misinterpreted easily. What the hell was going on here?

"Then who the hell was that? Why would they call me?" Dean locked eyes with the demon. Over the years he had gotten to know the man well enough that he could glean some knowledge from watching him.

"A date of mine went rogue. Honestly, the nerve. Stealing a man's cellphone," Crowley was back to the usual vagueness that allowed some room for plausible deniability. That was more like it.

"But she's alive?" Sam decided it was time to speak up again.

Crowley turned to face the younger Winchester, and there was an amused twinkle in his eye, "Of course."

"I want to talk to her," Sam straightened up. It was clear that he didn't believe him.

Crowley tilted his eyes, "That's curious. You think you could tell that it was the same person if I dialed them up?"

The tall man gave a rather intimidating glare that seemed to bounce right off of him, "Yes. I think I could."

Dean could tell from the slight shake of his head that Crowley had known that it was a bluff. He wasn't quite sure why. Perhaps he had been the cause of the ended call.

"I somehow doubt that, Moose," he gave an amused chuckle and suddenly he was gone. How typical. He came and went as he pleased.

"He knew you were bluffing him Sammy. We both know that you had no clue who called. It could've been anyone," though he knew that Crowley had definitely been hiding something. Hell. He wanted to look into it, but he knew that it'd be hard to gather information against the demon. They had no clue where this had happened. It could've been in hell for all they knew. From his time with Crowley he had found out that the man's cellphone worked down there beyond all reason. Apparently hell had excellent coverage.

"I don't know how he does that," Sammy sounded exhausted and Dean wondered if they should head back to the bunker for a couple days of rest. Not that they could let themselves do that.

Dean groaned as all the little lights clicked together in his head, "Oh god. I figured it out."

Sam tilted his head. The confusion in his eyes and the innocent way his expression changed made him look five years younger, "What?"

He gave a deep sigh and rubbed between his eyes, "Sammy. I think his date was a dude."

He heard a laugh being stifled in his brother's throat. At least he got to hear his Sammy laugh.

A/N: Yup. Little bit of the Winchesters in there. Of course they wouldn't just let the call be, and they probably won't leave it at that either.


	19. Chapter 19: Disrespect

Kevin swayed his legs back and forth, making the chair squeak. He was sitting in Crowley's chair waiting anxiously for the demon to get back. He knew that he was visiting Sam and Dean. He was afraid that this was going to go poorly. Though he hated that he was worried for both the Winchesters and the Demon King.

"This is probably going to end badly," he muttered under his breath, staring blankly at the contents of Crowley's desk.

He felt someone place a hand on his head gently and he jumped. He swung the chair around the face them and scooted away from them in a panicked fashion. He had honestly expected it to be Crowley, but what he saw surprised him.

Kevin raised an eyebrow and did his best to keep his tone even, "Are you supposed to be in here?" He felt nervous. Last time he had a confrontation with an unknown demon they tried to kill him. Not many people were allowed in the demon's office when he wasn't there. Kevin had a feeling that it had to do with the fact that this was where he was being kept.

The female demon seemed downright offended, "What makes ya think yew can talk to me like that?"

Kevin looked at her appraisingly. Her hair was well-kept, and her nails were perfectly manicured. Her clothes looked pretty expensive, but as always he admitted he wasn't the best at discerning that. Her arms were crossed and her eyes were narrowed.

"Past events? What exactly is Crowley going to do to me?" he knew that he should watch himself with the demons, but he knew that the demon ran a tight ship. He found it hard to imagine a demon would risk so much to kill him just for a little sass.

"Fergus'll get mad if ya keep talking to his dear ol' mum like that. Now off with yew," she tried to swat Kevin away from the desk, "Yew make a better door than a window."

"Fergus?" Kevin repeated numbly. Where had he heard that before? What was she talking about? Demons can be mothers? He seriously didn't want to think about that.

"Aye. Fergus. My sweet little boy. That's why I'm here. He'll be pretty angry if yew get in my way," she was downright arrogant, but he couldn't figure out why he felt so threatened.

"Well. This is Crowley's office. And I really doubt he cares what I do," he'd get out of her way if he wasn't so amused by her over-whelming sense of entitlement. He was also a little baffled by this Fergus. If he was so important to Crowley's operation, shouldn't he know?

He shook his head. No. He knew absolutely nothing about Crowley's business and he was sure he'd be happier that way. He felt a little upset that there would always be a big chunk of Crowley's life that he couldn't be involved in.

She gave a loud sigh and rolled her eyes, "That's my boy. Fergus. Of course. You would know him as Crowley. He's the boss, so yew better move yer little arse."

She was obviously trying to get something in the desk. Well. She was obviously insane. Demons didn't have mothers. Crowley didn't have a mother. Not anymore. He said that he had been a demon for a very long time. There's no way his mother could still be around. Maybe his mother had been turned into a demon as well? The more he thought about it, the more he realized that the woman before him didn't seem like a demon.

"Crowley is your son?" he asked skeptically, and without thinking about it he moved away to let her through.

She turned to him and gave him a practiced, but charming smile, "That's what I just said, yeah?"

"You have a Scottish accent. He doesn't," Kevin rested on the arm rests of the chair, watching the woman carefully. He had been around Crowley long enough he was getting better and better at sniffing out lies.

"I know. It's downright offensive. He's got no reason to hide it. He claims that it's the man he's possessing, but his Mam knows when he's fibbing," she averted her eyes as they took a downright saddened expression.

He'd barely been around her and was already exhausted. He had always wondered why Crowley was the way he was. He assumed that he had been different when he was human and that he had changed when he transitioned from human to demon. Maybe Crowley had always been messed up? Of course this woman could have always been blowing smoke.

Kevin still couldn't help but smile as he failed to resist temptation, " Has he always been like this? Fergus, I mean?"

She gave a small sigh and her eyes drifted upwards and to the right, "Yew mean troublesome? Aye. Of course he's always been a handful. Bit of a chunky child, I'll admit."

Kevin made an embarrassing squeak when the redhead suddenly invaded his personal space. He felt unnerved. She made a clicking noise and her eyes arched with mild curiosity.

"Well, well. That's a shock," she held a finger up to her lips and she was obviously deep in thought," What exactly are yew doing down here, wean?"

"Sitting in the King of Hell's chair," Kevin leaned back, "Which has some pretty fantastic lumbar support," he felt embarrassed to actually admit why he was down here. So it's time to hide behind humor and wit.

A shiver went down the young prophet's spine at the look she was giving him. He guessed that she wasn't used to back talk. Maybe she was the King of Hell's mother.

"Honey, I'm home," he had never been so relieved to hear Crowley's voice. He could hear him laughing under his breath at his own little joke. The laughter stopped as soon as he turned around.

He could've sworn that the temperature of the room dropped ten degrees when they made eye contact. Kevin not so subtly pushed his chair so that he was no longer directly between the two of them. They looked ready to kill each other.

It was obvious to him now what was going on. She was part of the group that was discontent with how Crowley was running things. And she got caught red-headed going through the boss' office. He knew that he didn't want to see where this was going.

Her expression changed suddenly and she gave a sickeningly sweet smile, "Fergus. How good of you to join us."

He gestured to the door, "Out," Kevin had never seen Crowley so angry. Even if he looked downright terrifying with that glower in his eyes and the frown on his face Crowley had never looked so human.

She tutted and shook her head. Her tone was light and sad, "How can ya talk to yer dear ol' Mum like that?"

"Actually, quite easily. You'd be surprised," his voice was strained. He was obviously barely able to keep from yelling.

Everything in his being said to keep quiet but he couldn't stop himself, "Wait? She's actually your mother?"

Kevin almost jumped when Crowley turned to him with those angry eyes, but he knew the look wasn't for him. He almost regretted speaking up, but this was something he knew that the demon himself would never willingly talk about.

"Has everything I told ya gone in one ear and out the other?" but how? How could his mother still be around?

"No," Kevin admitted sheepishly, and muttered under his breath, "I just kind of assumed you were lying."

Crowley's frown disappeared and was replaced with a smirk, "That's my boy. Probably the safest bet with her."

Crowley's mother clutched her chest and stared at him bewildered. As if she couldn't imagine why he would say such things and she let out an offended, "Fergus!"

Kevin raised himself from the chair and charged at Crowley with his finger pointed at him accusingly. He poked him right in the chest and summoned forth the best scolding tone he could manage, "I'm sure she's made mistakes. I know nothing about your relationship with her. That being said, you never disrespect your mother. She carried you around for nine months. She's the reason that you exist. Even if she's the world's worst mother, you still owe her that."

He could never imagine treating his mother that way. It was probably the fact that he hadn't seen her in so long that he was so upset watching them. He loved his mother. Even if she was bossy and pushy. She wanted him to be happy, and she was always looking out for him.

The redhead was practically preening, "Yew heard the boy, Fergus. Yew owe me that much."

Crowley grabbed Kevin's finger and pulled his hand to his face and kissed the knuckles, "Can of worms, sweetheart. Stay out of it."

The prophet pulled back his hand and crossed his arms. He knew that he had overstepped. Actually. No he didn't. He knew nothing about their relationship. But he got his opinion out, so he'd stay quiet for now.

"Oh, now! Lookit him! He's all riddy!" Kevin felt the distinct urge to crawl under a rock.

"Quiet down, Mother," there was an icy chill to the way he called her 'Mother', "What exactly where you doing in my office in the first place?"

"What else would a mother be doing? I was looking out for you," she dusted off the edge of his desk before sitting down on it.

After his little speech he'd be hard pressed to admit it, but she really did seem like a dangerous woman.

A/N: After consulting my beta and my friends, they all loved the idea of introducing Rowena. I was very concerned with how I wrote her, so I've been very hesitant to post this one, but after a nudge or two I decided to post this one. I'm going to post the meaning of the Scottish phrases/words I used. If you think it's necessary/unnecessary I'd appreciate your opinion in a review. Here you go!

You make a better door than a window: You're in the way! I can't see around you.

Wean: Child

Riddy: Red-faced. Embarrassed

Those are the only ones that I can remember that I would think was confusing. If I missed one, feel free to message me and I'll add it. I only thought to do this after I had finished writing the chapter. Sorry for any confusion!


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